


Keep Telling Yourself That

by Lowiiie, Luxi_Storyteller



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Basketball, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Happy ending so stop crying, Lexa reads her own fanfic, Lexa wants to be an alpha but not omegaverse, Oblivious Clarke, Sassy Lexa, Teacher!Clarke, WNBA!Lexa, clarke is a mess, there will be smut, uhauling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 53
Words: 184,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5280014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lowiiie/pseuds/Lowiiie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxi_Storyteller/pseuds/Luxi_Storyteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WNBA player, Lexa fucking Trikru gets sent to meet up with a fan on her birthday thanks to a letter. Clarke's the teacher and is really excited to meet Lexa, but not as excited as Lexa wants. Its a disaster of craziness snark and goofiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lexa fucking Trikru

**~Lexa~**

It is too early to be up.

> No scratch that:  ~~It is too early to be up.~~

It is too fucking early to be up.

Yeah, sometimes the word fuck just makes things better. And at the moment I really need to let the world know how I feel. The world meaning me and my baby. Because we were seriously up to fucking early. And for what? Some lady's birthday. 

I mean seriously, what person in their sane mind signs up to get up before 7 every day and babysit someone else’s teenagers. This chick has to be crazy, and Indra’s even crazier for thinking that this is going to make Costia’s fucking bullshit go away.

* * *

  _~Yesterday~_

_“People ain’t stupid, Indra,” I told her, but she didn’t care what I was saying. She just stared me down like she was my mother, but she wasn’t. She was my publicist, and when I looked bad she looked bad. Therefore, I though that this approach would work._

_But it didn't._

_She just kept talking. Just telling me, “The WNBA has invested a lot of money in your face… blah blah blah… she’s a fan and her students are trying to do something nice… blah blah blah…the one who wrote the letter says she is like her savior-“_

_Indra must have noticed that I wasn’t really listening because all of a sudden a giant envelope hit me in the head and fell to the ground before me. I know my face was red, because I could feel my blood rushing to it. My hands are clenched and I am about to jump from my seat and give her a piece of my mind._

_You know that piece of attitude that develops from hitting too many threes in a row or winning a MVP trophy. The attitude that my actual mother told me was eating me alive last week, when she saw my “latest stunt” on the news._

_But seriously I am Lexa fucking Trikru. The Commander of the Phoenix Mercury, and my employee just threw something at me. I should sue her ass for assault._

_I should fire that pinche cabrona. Yeah, yeah! I’ll fire her ass… Then I breathe. I breathe and realize I am doing it again. So I scratched that. ~~I’ll fire that pinche cabrona.~~_

_“Tomorrow, Lexa,” Indra stated and turned to leave. But when she hit the locker room door, she turned aburtly to hand me one more piece of sass. “I did my research. She’s not Costia and she’s not crazy so please be nice to her. She seems like someone that deserves the old Lexa. Not this ruthless bitch you are steadily becoming.” She kicked a box near the door, and just the shape told me it was a ball. “the other girls sighed it, so don’t forget it.”_

_So I flip her off. I mean she said I was a bitch right. That deserves at least a little fuck you. But it made me wonder, so I grabbed the fucking giant envelope. Like seriously, what the fuck was Indra thinking throwing this at me? It could have sliced through my throat and then she would have had to actually have a press conference that I died from a fucking paper cut or something._

_Shaking my head, I knew I was going overboard but hey that’s what a fucking brain is for right. Use your imagination and all that shit. It’s not crazy as long as it doesn’t come out of my mouth. Well doesn’t come out when I’m sober. Drunk you can say all the crazy shit you want and no one gives a fuck, in fact they usually cheer and shit._

_Opening the envelope, I first see the glossy photo of myself. Fuck, they did a good job. Made me look taller, and that stylist was amazing. The way I had her screaming my name, fuck. What was her name again?_

_I bit my lip and scanned over the purple and orange lockers. I seriously spent way too much time trying to think of the hit and quit’s name, but I like to think that I care enough to try and remember the girl’s name. Even though I didn't really care, and I didn't remember her name._

_I pulled a Sharpie from my duffle and signed the photo. As I went to put it back in the envelope, I found the crumpled piece of paper that was making my life difficult. I reached in and pulled it out. I was about to throw it away, until something caught my attention._

_My name in purple pen and careful print._

_Dear Ms. Lexa Trikru,_

_I’m writing to you in hopes that you could help me honor my English teacher on her birthday. She is a huge fan of yours and has never missed a game. I know that you are extremely busy, and I know that the playoffs are about to start. (BTW, congratulations on making it to the playoffs.) Griffin is a very special person._

_You see she saved my life…_

_I stopped reading there. I stopped reading because this was about to get sappy and honestly I don’t do sappy. I do bitchy and sexy. Yes, if Griffin the Teacher was either of those things then maybe I would give her a little more of my time._

_Never had a teacher before._

* * *

The drive isn’t too bad. A double lane highway into the middle of fucking nowhere, but still who the fuck knew there are actual farms surrounding Phoenix. Where the hell does the water come from? Who wants to be a farmer in Arizona. Picking fields out here must be hell. The literal definition of hell.

“Continue on County Road 85 for the next fifteen miles,” the robotic female GPS drone instructs me. I scowl at the digital map largely displayed on the Tesla touch screen, and I lift up my plastic cup. The iced coffee is almost empty, and the fields on either side of me make me fear that I will not be finding a Starbucks at the end of this road.

“Who the fuck lives out here!” I mutter to no one but myself. But the song changes and the bass in the trunk thumps through my chest pumping me up.

I pray that Griffin isn’t a seventy year old woman. _Just please make her one of those hot chicks that chooses to be selfless and poor until they marry rich_.

>  Wait what? Scratch that: ~~Just please make her one of those hot chicks that chooses to be selfless and poor until they marry rich.~~

~~~~_Just please make her one of those hot chicks that chooses to be selfless and poor._

 

>   _Wait. Those bitches aren’t real. Scratch again_ : ~~Just please make her one of those hot chicks that chooses to be selfless and poor.~~

_Just make her hot, preferably not crazy, and… a screamer. Yeah, let her be a screamer._

The music changes and I can’t help but roll my hips with the beat. I love to dance, and ‘Hey Mama’ is a great throwback to high school. One arm is doing the wave out the window when I blaze past a dusty black Corolla that is like the only other car traveling into town.

Yeah, so what its early as fuck. I’ll go meet the teacher. I smile at that thought. Meet the teacher, all domestic and shit. _Wait… maybe that’s not domestic._ I start analyzing what classifies as domestic and what doesn’t. Because I felt like I needed to know this, I’m meeting an English teacher.

 

> So here’s the thing. I hate English. The only memory I had of English were four years of pot-bellied dudes that sat in front of the mentally fired teenagers pretending ineffectively to pay attention as they would drone on and on and on about the pinche climax. And when they would say climax, the boys would chuckle or high five, while the girls would roll their eyes. Teenagers knew what a climax was but really, none of us girls had ever hit one.
> 
> Especially me. I was tall and into sports. And gay. Not a little gay. Like really gay. But the school had 400 people and I was already weird. Being gay then made it even worse. So I dated a football player, ha! He was also gay. Everyone thought we would grow up and make super tall babies. But no there would be no babies for Ryder and I. No because he couldn’t get it up for me no matter how cute my ass was, and I couldn’t become moister than the Sahara at the thought of his… ew. No scratch that last thought. 

“Make your next left,” Tesla tells me and I follow her words.

 

> Blindly. Like the satellite bitch didn’t know that back country roads were not roads and god damn it there was dust and rocks everywhere.

Screaming at the car, I ask, “How much longer on this fucking road?!” The tires hit every fucking rock, rattling the vehicle in a manner that is probably very detrimental to the fucking suspension. All because Indra decided to send me off roading to the middle of fucking nowhere all because some kid wanted to tell her teacher Happy Fucking Birthday.

_Fuck this._

I pull off the side of the road, and stop the car. Getting out, I brush as much dust as possible from my black fitted slacks that I knew made my ass look sharp. Crunching tires pull my eyes from my pants though, and I saw a dented and pealing yellow pick-up approaching.

It stops a careful distance behind my car, and short brunette pops out from the driver’s side. A smaller blonde exits next for the opposite side. I can see the stack of balloons bopping around in the cab of the car. _Who the fuck goes this far in for their English teacher?_ Then I remember, _sad story._ This must be _the_ kid.

“Oh my god! You’re here!” the girl exclaims, and is jumping up and down.I hated these kinds of fans. The giddy, “I’m so fucking excited may fart glitter any fucking minute.” And this kid looked like she lived off glitter and rainbows and all things of happiness.

She is still talking, and her hand is about to touch me but I pull away.  _No way._

 

> I didn’t do touching then. Especially middle of nowhere, crazy fucking fan touching.

The girl’s face tenses and it seemed that she gets the picture. But I swallow because the brunette is not unattractive, and I find myself sizing her up and paying probably too much attention to the shading that peeks out from the girl’s tank top, and the sliver of tan flesh that threats to make me blush. A hot teenage piece of fucking jail bait.

  _Damn it, Lex. No._  

“Sorry,” she starts again, “I just… I didn’t know if you would get my letter. And Griffin is going to be so excited!”

I pull my attention from Glitter and fight my desire to laugh. Scanning the blonde that hung back by the car. I realize that she is the other type of annoying fan. The kind that wants to say hi, but doesn’t so they stand by awkwardly until I feel like I’m a douche for not acknowledging them.

I nod to the other girl, and turn my attention back to the excited one. She is still bouncing, which is making her breasts bounce, which is distracting to say the least. I have to say something, I know this. But I was struggling to come up with something other than ‘you look hot.’ I find words though, “So… where is this school?”

The girl’s hand swings up and points towards the end of the road. “Just up there,” she answers with too much energy for this early, and then adds, “You can follow us if you want?”

I look at the truck and consider it. But then I realize that the truck will probably kick back enough rocks to destroy my baby. Yeah that truck will destroy you worse than _how I’m going to fuck up Indra for the damage this road had that is already done to you. What was she thinking?_

“I think I better go first,” I tell the girl and go to get in the car. But she is touching me and damn it I thought _we seriously already covered this shit_.

My neck cracks from how quickly I turn, but then it became real fucking clear that I am being ridiculous and I hate when I feel that way. “Thank you, Ms. Trikru. She saved me and I just know she is going to be so happy. So thank you.”

The girl pulled her arm away and I won’t lie, I kind of missed the touch.

 

> Everyone around me knew better than to touch me, but this kid was just a kid. The ideas of teenage tango time faded as quickly as they rose, because the girl before me was just a girl and for some reason, I wanted to protect her.

“You’re welcome,” was all I could get out, before I climbed back into the car. Flipping the visor down, I checked my curls and then my eyeliner. Yeah, I look great so I should feel great. _I’m Lexa fucking Trikru._

I put the car back into drive, and pull forward. Immediately my ass vibrates as the coins in in the change cup rattle. The rattling is driving me fucking crazy, but I can see the small set of buildings breaking out from a cove of trees and I can’t help but think of the place as a little picturesque. I justify that Jail Bait deserves to be filled with gaseous glitter because I probably would be too if I get my wish to bang this teacher, or if I had ever gotten to go to school in a place like this.

The dirt road turned to pavement, just as I pull into gate. I park the car in the visitor’s spot and notice that it is still too fucking early because there is like no one here yet.

I watched the truck pull into an unmarked spot a few spaces down, and the two girls jumped from the cab again. They were hauling out balloons, backpacks, and plastic bags of supplies. Yes, these girls must really care about this Griffin lady.

I felt the smile then. Indra was right this is the type of shit that I used to love doing; spending the day in a classroom with a bunch of teens talking about college and setting goals. I shake my head though. I shake my head because seriously I’m not a fucking benchwarmer. Stars don’t do that shit. And Lexa fucking Trikru is a big fucking star, so I didn’t have time for this type of shit.

When I'm about to get out the computer panel lit up with Indra’s face. Of course she would be checking on me. She had no faith in me to do what I said I would. 

 

> A part of me then knew that Indra had every reason to doubt me. Broken promise after broken promise, and a night sobering up in a cell after a bar fight, fucking Costia made my publicist start to lose faith in me.

_Yeah, Indra is right. Things used to be different._

 

> Things used to be simpler, and maybe there was a chance I’d reassess my choices. But I wasn’t there yet.

“Answer,” I tell the car, and hear Indra’s children laughing in surround sound.

“You there yet?”

_No” hello”, no “good morning.” No” thanks for getting up, Lexa.” I’m going to fire her._

“I’m here,” I practically growl, because seriously who the fuck does she think she is. But I remember that I pay her to be like this. Pay the only person that is willing to put up with me on a daily basis.

_Yeah, you’re a big fucking deal. Even Anya left your ass._

“Remember this is for good press. Be nice and don’t fuck her on the desk,” Indra states so matter of factly, it pisses me off. However, I realize that Indra wouldn’t have said that unless Griffin is hot.

“So you’re saying she’s fuckable?” This just made this morning much more interesting. _The woman wants to meet her celebrity crush, maybe I could just make her year_.

 

> I smiled then because at the time I seriously thought I was hot shit. I thought that no one would deny me.

I see the black Corolla that I passed forever ago pull into the spot next to mine. The car shutting down is loud, and I can tell it’s a piece of shit. My attention gets pulled back to the monitor where Indra calls me, “LEXA!”

“Fuck! You’re on fucking surround sound. I don’t pay you to make me go deaf,” I tell her. The flash of blonde waves speeds by the hood of my baby. I miss her face, but her toned legs were covered in black skinny pants and the leather calf length boots covering the bottom edges of the skin tight material make me pray that that is Griffin. 

As the woman turns into the school’s front gate, the simple cardigan rose just enough for me to see how the material of her pants covered the curvy hips and toned ass. I check the corners of my mouth for drool because even if she’s fugly, I would gladly bend her face forward into the desk.

 

> I was pretty fixated on fucking my first teacher. Call it an all-time fantasy after 12 years of forced schooling and four years of undergraduate hell.

Indra is still ranting, “Lexa, if you fuck this up I quit. I mean it. I researched this woman and she-“

“I heard you,” and I hit the end button. I am over being told what to do like a child. _I already drove out here and if I want to fuck the blonde teacher, I will fuck the blonde teacher. If she is as excited as those damn kids make it seem like she will be, then it won’t be that hard to get consent._

Settling myself, I take a moment to get into character. This is for publicity after all. Flipping the mirror down, I take another look at myself. I check that my makeup is still touch up. My hair isn’t frizzing out. And lastly that my lips were glossy.

I smile at my own reflection and say, “You are Lexa fucking Trikru and you’re going to go in there and play the nice guy. She’ll jump up and down, and touch you and it will be okay, because you’ll have her screaming you name in just a short time after that.”

 

> Yeah, I was fucking confident about that last part. I was confident alright because I was so fucking full of myself. And I wish I could say that day changed my attitude. That Griffin was as magical as Jail Bait made her out to seem. But no, she wasn’t magical… she was just a girl.
> 
> That’s what I told myself at least.
> 
> I figured if I could lie to myself enough maybe I could make it true.


	2. Misunderstanding and Assholes

**~Lexa~**

I don’t know why I kept thinking I would meet this Griffin lady and have an immediate opportunity to bang her on her desk. As I gaze around the plain office with ridiculous motivational posters that corporate American had plastered in every office building from the Atlantic to the Pacific, I realize that I was clearly not going to get the teacher here, or anyone else. I didn’t even get a chance to talk with the hot brunette toffee colored chick, before being hauled into the principal’s office. I mean the principal is up my ass from the moment I step into the office, apparently irritated that I’m disrupting the school day, and more blah blah blah.

I really couldn’t care less. Because he was hard to take seriously, the type of dude that would run a school in one of those cheesy for-teen movies. The don’t bully each other or don’t cheat on the girlfriend stuff. Yeah, he definitely belonged in one of those.

“Look Lexa, I can call you Lexa right?” but he doesn’t wait for me to respond, “Clarke Griffin is like a daughter to me,” and he has my attention because her name is Clarke.

I try it out. It’s different, and I nod to myself, because I like it. _Clarke. Klark. Yeah, use a ‘k’ not a a ‘c’ it will sound exotic._ I become aware that I’m setting myself up. Like why am I so horny. I shift and can feel the undeniable warmth of my confidence in the crotch of my pants.

“… after you were arrested, Griffin seemed to quiet about you. But I don’t want you disrespecting her or this school,” he continued. Of course, he knew about _that._ “Griffin is well respected and I’m concerned that you will cause unwanted attention to be cast upon her.”

I felt my eye brow raise and the heat growing in my cheeks. Yeah, I’m getting angry and I need to cool my shit. I need to just get it together, because he doesn’t know me and I he has no right to judge me.

“Lexa, am I understood?” and the dude is looking at me, and I’m looking back at him. His dark eyes and graying black hair.

_This is why I don’t do school shit. Principals are not your pal._

He is still looking at me, and I shift again. He shouldn’t make me feel uncomfortable but I am because I feel like a kid instead of the pro that I am. I know how do these things. “I asked-“

“Got it,” I answer. I stand up and meet his eye. He is a little bigger than me, but hell I’m a guard in the WNBA, most of my opponents are taller than me. He is being rude and it´s just uncalled for, since I’m here to make this daughter-like woman feel special on her birthday.

_Why isn’t he thanking me?_

He shifts his weight, as a bell rings. The sound irks me because high school always sucked and it was a reminder of trying to be something I wasn’t. There are only two types, mini prisons or mini corporations, and by the way this guy was acting I’m not sure what to expect.

His exhale is loud and annoying because it's a disappointed sound and I hate that sound. I don’t understand why people keep giving me that sound since I do what everyone wants.

_Well, until recently, but that was Costia’s fault. I was just there._

> It takes me months really to embrace the thing that would help me understand Clarke. Months of making up for the next thirsty thirty minutes, but the teacher did get me to understand.

“Look I know you don’t want me here, so how about you show me to Griffin I can take the photo, give her the autograph and the-“ I look to my hands and realize I forgot the ball. I admonish myself because Indra will be pissed but whatever, I’ll just send her some tickets because the kid said she never misses a game and playoff seats are expensive. Justifying that middle of no where teachers can’t afford stuff like that. “and tell her about the tickets at the box office for the first round game and then I’ll leave you to this… place.”

He nods but I don’t miss that he didn’t smile at me.

Leaving the office to see the rain clouds rolling eased my stress some. The blue trimmed u-shaped campus building was interesting. I didn’t think they made schools smaller than the one that I went to, but this place was seriously tiny.

The green door farthest from the office was covered in a handmade sign, wishing Clarke Griffin a happy birthday. It makes me wonder what this lady does that makes kids lover her this much. But I don’t have long to wonder because we pass by what looks like planter bed vegetable gardens in the middle of the courtyard and I realize as I look around that everything in the courtyard is actually edible.

The zucchini plants make me wonder, _what kind of school is this?_

No time though, because we are at the door and there is cheering going on within. The dude opens the door and I can feel the birthday song pounding through my chest. I know the song. Everyone knows the song, but no one has ever sung the song to me the way these kids are singing to the blonde that is standing in the center of the room, with a room with more teenagers than seats.

Yeah, she is the blonde I saw earlier and I realized I would never want to bend that face over a desk.

No, I want to see that face smile as she bounces on my fingers and screams for me to fuck her.

Yeah, she is the type of woman I want to keep in my phone log for those fancy parties.

And then her eyes meet mine, and I swear I feel the fucking blood rushing to my face as my arousal is flooding my chonies. She is more than fuckable; she is perfect.

I can see the exact moment she realizes that I am real. I have seen it before so it´s not like I’m surprised and I remember then. I remember that I am _Lexa fucking Trikru_ and that I got this.

She doesn’t jump though. And I don’t understand because she isn’t rushing into my arms. She isn’t doing what women with celebrity crushes do, and I don’t understand what is happening. Because she’s… she’s hugging Jail Bait. She is hugging that kid like I’m a fucking Fathead poster in the doorway.

I start to question why I’m here, but she is making her way over to me. Passing by a brown couch, and I glance around the room to see that it’s like no classroom I have ever been in before. There are couches and bean bag chairs and... _are those yoga mats on the floor?_

“Hello, Ms. Tirkru,” she is saying to me, and I look at her lips, because she is speaking and they are pink and glossy in a simple way.

I glance down at her chest for a second and _Yeah I want to see those bounce too, definitely not face down._ But there’s a hand waving and I look up to see the blonde trying to get my attention. I realize my mistake because she is happy to see me, but her soft blue eyes are reflecting more caution than anything else. _Shit!_

Indra’s warning echoes through my mind and I get my shit together because no matter how many times I think about firing the woman, I know I need her.

I smile, my white teeth are perfect and I know it, so I show it. “Hello, Klark.” Her eyes smile and I knew I was right to go with the k instead of the c. _Good job, Lexa._

I hold out my hand to the woman and realize she is several inches smaller than me. When she takes it, I feel the warmth radiating from her. I wonder how warm she would be to hold against my skin, or if she would hog the covers in the middle of the night.

> Wait, no. Scratch that: ~~I wonder how warm she would be to hold against my skin or if she would hog the covers in the middle of the night.~~

I wonder how warm she would be as I sink my talented fingers inside of her.

Her eyes are watching me, and I realize that I’m supposed to be talking, but I can’t because all I can see is this woman in my arms so I could hold her.

>  Scratch that: ~~so I could hold her.~~

So I could fuck her.

“A little bird told me it was your birthday today, and I just wanted to take the chance to say it myself. So, Happy Birthday, Klark,” I say finally. I nod as she casts a look back at the bouncing teenage girl, who is wrapped in the arms of a much larger boy.

Clarke is smiling bigger then and she turns away from me; her attention entirely on her students. She is so focused on them, and I realize I could have done this on a video call. Indra said this was for publicity but there are no cameras other than cellphones and the woman isn’t even paying attention to me. To me. Lexa fucking Trikru _. I thought she was a fan._

“You guys are so sweet. Thank you so much…” she talking to the students so I walk in a little further, and press my hand to her lower back as I stand next to her. I must have startled her though because she jumps right out of my touch and twists to get another look at me. _Take it in sweetie. I don’t mind._

The kids are moving then, some raiding the tables of cookies and treats, while others were grouping off. Clarke turns from me again, and I’m starting to get flustered because I’m here to see her and it´s like I’m not even important. “Guys, get your snacks and then get out your books. We are starting with the section where Rand explains the concept of the phrase 'who is John Gault?'”

I look around and see the faces nodding and a few pulling out a book that seriously made me think of the bible. I feel like I have heard that phrase before, but I can’t place it. I lose my thoughts though because Clarke is looking at me again, and her lower lip is tucked between her teeth. I feel slightly jealous because I want to take that lip.

I take a step forward, but Clarke’s hand comes up to stop.

“Ms. Trikru,” she starts.

“Lexa.”

I see her swallow and realize her blue eyes are a little darker now. The smile on my face can only grow, because she wants me. She wants me, and all I would have to do is get her number and I could get her.

But she is speaking, and I swear her voice was husky with want.

 

> Because I’m the douche that believed any woman with a slightly deeper voice wanted me between her thighs. I just want to argue that I was in a bad place at this point in time, and I was making a lot of stupid decisions. Like what happened next.

Her arms were hanging by her side, so I reach forward and take it in mine. Rubbing my thumb over her much paler flesh. “Klark, I brought you a birthday present.”

I should hand her the envelop in my hand, but I don’t. I instead pull her a little harshly, jerking her body into mine. Her breasts hitting me in the chest and I wrap her into the hug that she was supposed to give me when she saw me.

She is patting me on the back, and saying, “Thank you, Lexa. It´s really amazing to get to meet you.”

Her voice is off though. She sounds uncomfortable, like I’m making her uncomfortable. I don’t understand and I hold on. I don’t know why I hold on, but I do and she is squirming.

I loosen my grip only after I inhale the fruity scent of her probably cheap shampoo. Maybe I was breathing too hard or she could feel how hard my nipples were against her chest, because she pushed me back some and I get the hint.

I’m not happy about it, but I get it and I back up. I back up but I don’t release her, but her eyes are wild and they are shifting back and forth, and I realize that she is scared. Her arm is shaking in my grip and she is scared of me.

“Please let go,” she says so quietly that I barely hear her. I blink a few times and I am so confused, but her eyes are welling up and her chin is angled at the ground. I can’t see her face well now, and something is brewing inside of me.

 

> I should have been concerned. And really I was. The problem is I was so full of myself that just didn’t get it. I saw her rejecting me, and Lexa fucking Trikru did not get rejected. Glad I stopped being her.

The redness returns, but this time it isn’t the lust that is making me want to pull her closer. It was anger at this _teacher_ is rejecting me. I try counting to ten slowly, but I don't get past two before I’m still gripping her arm and I’m glaring at her.

“What’s your problem? I thought this was your big dream. Meet your celebrity crush-“ I feel someone touching me then and I let go of the woman so that I can take care of the hand on my arm. The hand is gone though, and the principal is trying to calm the kids that are looking at me really pissed, while the blonde... _wait, where did she go?_  

I see the flash of light from the door, and Clarke is rushing from the room.

 

> Like I said… douche bag. And it would lead to me hitting rock fucking bottom, but it all worked out in the end.

I move to follow her and I make it out the door to chase after Clarke, because I want answers. I want to know why she ran away from the hug. Why she looked so sad. I wanted to know what made me touching her make her want to cry. I want to understand, but she is leaving and I have another hand on me and it’s pulling me.

It’s pulling me from the front of the door with the hand painted sigh to the front gate. The gate where my baby is waiting from me. But I’m not done so I’m twisting in the grip and I see the large boy that had had his hands on Jail Bait was now touching me with Principal walking beside him shaking his head.

“Get your fucking hands off of me,” I tell the kid and he does. He lets go and looks down at me. I feel small next to this boy, but that doesn’t matter because I’m Lexa fucking Trikru.

Brute boy speaks then, and his words cut me. “See, when a lady asks you to do something, you do it.”

“Off my campus now,” the principal booms, and I look back to see several teens standing in the doorway of the birthday room recording me on their little phones. I know I’m fucked. I know that those will hit social media before I even get to my car.

I try to fix it by saying, “I need to apologize.”

But the principal is pointing to the gate, and his growl is deep as he tells me, “Stay away from her. She deserves better than you.”

 

> I felt his words that day dig deep into my bones. Part of me wanted to prove him wrong. The other part wanted to run away and run away fast. Needless to say, I was incapable of doing either.

I walked off the campus, my shoulders back and my head high. The same way one walks off the court when they lose. But I hadn’t lost. _No, Lexa fucking Trikru does not lose._

When I got to the hood of my car, I glance over and see the fucked up Corolla parked next to mine. I kinda wished that Clarke had run to her car because then I could see her again. But I feel the weight of the envelope still in my hand. Looking down, I realize that I failed at doing everything Indra had asked of me.

I move to my car, and once inside, I find a sharpie. Pulling the glossy image out, I look at my own smiling image and for the first time in a long time I’m pissed at the face looking back at me. That smug look of I can do anything, but I couldn’t and I didn’t. After all, I’m pretty sure I just ruined that teacher’s birthday because I can only think with my cunt.

My phone rang as my fist hit the steering wheel, and fishing it out of my pocket, I see Indra’s face looking at me. I knew that the videos had hit social media, and I just dug myself into a bigger hole than I was already in.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

I start to answer it, but hesitate and then Indra’s face disappears only for a second later a text to show up in a banner across the screen.

It's a screen shot of a Snapchat: The boy gripping my arm as I stare back the at door and a message written over our bodies. The message makes my stomach twist. “Trikru escorted off campus after ruining Bday.”

A following message a moment later is simple. I’m officially alone. I read it over and over again thinking that as long as I’m reading it, Indra hasn’t really quit.

 _Damn it. Look what you did._ And the voice that I had worked so hard to get rid of was back. The sound of disappointment with the same tone she used was back and I can’t shake it.

I rip the top of the marker off with my teeth and put the pen to the photo. My hand is shaking because I have to fix what I broke. Starting with the teacher. Starting with Clarke.

 

> I was incapable of accepting that I needed to start with myself. So I focused on Clarke. Focused on fixing her and her inability to accept my hug.

“Ticket box has two VIP passes waiting for you for tonight’s game. Happy Birthday.”

I try to stuff the photo back into the envelope but that fucking letter was blocking me again. I pull it out and toss it crumbled up onto the floor on the other side of the console. With an empty envelope, the photo slides easily within.

I flip the little metal tab over and I just hold it for a minute. Considering if it would be better to just to drive away. Just leave things this way. But that berating voice was back telling me to do just that.

_Run away. Run away just like last time._

I sigh though, because I don’t have any place to run. I’m fucking Lexa Trikru and everywhere I go will be a camera or a hater to remind me that I failed. That I failed at my marriage and that I failed Costia and that all I do is fail the gay community. A disappointment. 

But I’m not her anymore, so I get out of the car. I get out and I shove the orange envelope under her windshield wiper. I shove it to the windshield and let the tattered wiper blade slam into it.

_They said she never misses a game. Hopefully she won’t turn this down._


	3. Flashbacks Bring Tears

**~Clarke~**

The girl’s bathroom smelled. It had smelled when I went to high school here, and you would think after a decade, Kane would get the plumping fixed. If I wasn’t going to puke before, I feel like it now. But I can’t go back outside yet. I can’t take a chance of seeing her again.

I stare into the bowl and feel the acid rise. It takes all of five minutes to empty my stomach. My teeth feel disgusting and I swear I am never eating cookies for breakfast again.

I push up and out of the stall, making my way to hold myself up against the sink. My legs are shaking and I can still feel the sweat prickling on the back of my neck. My stomach is still clenching and I think maybe I need to go back to the stall.

The door opens then, and Raven is sticking her head in checkered tile room. Raven makes her way over to me, and rubs her hand against my back. I can’t handle the heat though so I strip off my sweater. Ray helps me and takes it from my back.

“You okay,” she asks me, but I can’t answer her yet. I am still trying to process the anger in her eyes. The same anger from last time. The way she had changed at the bar when I pushed back at her hands trying to make their way up my shirt.

I look in the mirror and wipe away the smeared eye liner that gathered under my eyes. I shouldn’t be this upset, I mean it was clear she didn’t recognize me. I mean that sucks, but at least last time I could say she was drunk. Argue that she didn’t realize that she was touching me in a bar full of other people or that I was asking her to slow down. 

I grazed my fingers over the fading hickey on my neck. _But maybe it wasn’t because she was drunk. Maybe she was just a jerk._

The thought is eating me, because I had flirted with her. I had danced with her. I thought it was something, and the way she looked at me was because she thought I was different.

“I thought I could blame it on her being drunk,” I whisper.

Raven’s hand was still rubbing my back and I turned into her. She hugged me in a way no one else hugs it seems. Always long and tight. Making me feel special. The hugs were never romantic, it was just Raven. Just Raven showing she cared in a way that she hadn’t known her whole life.

I cry, silently shaking in her arms. Succumbing to the emotions that I was trying to bury since I had finally gotten to meet Lexa Trikru

* * *

_~A Little More than a Week Ago~_

_The official season had ended with a Mercury win. I was ecstatically and hopping up and down in the mid-level season ticket seat. The other faithful X-factor fans were celebrating around me. Usually I would get in my car and head back home but I felt like dancing._

_There are few lesbian bars in the Phoenix area so I headed to the one that was most popular and on my way home somewhat. When I arrived it was busy. Women tossing back shots and beers everywhere._

_It took me a few minutes to make it through the crowd at the bar. I ordered a sprite and cranberry. As I waited, I heard the crowd burst into rapturous cheers. Glancing around, I couldn’t see anything but bobbing heads, but then there was an opening and I saw her._

_Lexa Trikru was in the same bar as she was. Lexa Trikru, the woman who I would look up stats on weekly and coach her computer. I know it was kind of stalkerish the way I crushed on the woman I had never met. But she was here._

_The teenager in me was jumping up and down, but I couldn’t show it. No I was respectable. I was a teacher. But it was Lexa fucking Trikru, and she was here. She was here in the same room as me._

_The bartender placed my drink on the bar and I held out my card for her. She smiled kindly though and waved it off. “I got you, gorgeous,” was all she said, and she turned away from me._

_I called out, “Thank you,” and picked up my drink. I tried to find a table, but the bar was small and filled tightly. I finally took up space at the dance floor rail. The heavy bass of hiphop music was rattling the Christmas lights strung across the overhead wooden beams._

_I saw her enter the dance floor then. She was pulling a dark haired girl behind her. I couldn’t help but watch the way her hips were already swaying to the beat. It was hypnotizing._

_Honestly, I was jealous of the girl that she pulled into her. Pressing her body to the back fo the other woman. Lexa was holding a beer, but her other hand held to the other woman as she pressed against her._

_I swallowed thickly, and took a sip of my drink. I could have downed my drink but it wouldn’t have changed the dryness in my mouth. No, because Lexa Trikru was less than twenty feet away and I could imagine the way her body would feel pressed against mine._

_A tap on my shoulder broke my concenstration though, and I saw the bartender that had bought my drink holding out her hand. Her hair was braided tightly to her scalp, but the rest was flowly behind her. I smiled at her and placed my hand in hers._

_There were no words. We didn’t need words. I knew she was asking me to dance, and that was why I came here. When our feet hit the floor, the unnamed woman turned me and then pulled me into her. Her breath was hot on my neck, and I leaned back into her body. I had a perfect view of Lexa just a few feet from me._

_Her green eyes looked up, as she rose the bottle to her lips. I swear she was looking at me, and there was just a hint of a smile at the corners of her perfect lips._

_Losing myself in the way her thoart moved as she finished the bottle, I swayed my hips and pushed my ass back into the bartender. I felt her hands on my hips and her croch pressed up against me. The heat rose through my chest and I know my cheeks were flushed, but I was most aware of the heat building in my sex._

_I raised my arms to up and the unnamed woman behind me wrapped her arm around my waist. But I didn’t care where her hands went because Lexa was still watching me._

_Her beautiful green eyes were dark and I dared to dream that they were for me. I was breathing heavy and intertwined her fingers with the bartender’s. I felt her arms wrap easily around me and it felt warm and comfortable._

_The song was ending though, and the people on the floor were moving around to find new partners or to get another drink. The bartender pressed her lips to my temple and I fell back into her embrace._

_“Thank you,” I said to her, turning to meet her beautiful brown eyes. “I’m Clarke.”_

_“Echo,” she offered. Taking a glance back at the bar, she turned to me with a sorrowful eyes. “I have to get back. But come by when you need another drink, kay?”_

_I nodded and moved to follow her back off the floor. I knew there wouldn’t be any more drinks for me that night. It was getting late and I had to work the next morning._

_I was stopped, when long fingers gripped my wrist and a warm body pressed to my back. Her words were slightly slurred and the smell of alcohol was flooding my nostrils, but I was twisted to face her._

_I was face to face with Lexa fucking Trikru. The feeling of her body pressed against mine was like a dream come true. I mean I had literally dreamed of this moment too often than I would ever really want to admit._

_“I’m Lexa,” she stated, and she licked her lips. She was looking at me and licking her lips, and I may die._

_I swallow, allowing her hand to crawl over my back and pull me in closer. She was holding me. “I know who you are,” I say. I scold myself though: Really! I know who you are! What the fuck is wrong with you?!_

_Lexa smiled then. She smiled at me. Smiled at me while she held me._

_Her face was closer to mine then, and I could smell her cologne. It was heavenly and I imagined after tonight searching for that smell._

_“Dance with me,” she said in my ear. Tingles shot down my spine at the clear command in her voice._ _I didn’t have a chance to respond because she was pulling me back onto the floor. The song was heavy with base and Lexa’s hips swayed seductively as she walked backwards._

_When we were in the center of the floor, Lexa’s knee pressed between my legs, and her hands wandered over my back._

_Her eyes stared at me as if she could see me. The me that no one else knew, and I swear I was falling in love with her. The way the green was swallowed by pitch black pupils. I was so lost in her eyes that I didn’t at first realize her hands had moved their way down my back and were clutching my ass._

_It was when her grip tightened that I started becoming uncomfortable. I wanted her, but not like this. Not here._

_She seemed to sense that, because Lexa pulled back and guided me off the dance floor. I followed her because she was Lexa Trikru and she wanted to spend more time with me. Me. Clarke Griffin. High school English teacher was being drug from the dance floor by last year’s MVP._

_The wall was approaching, and I was confused as to where she was leading me. But as we got closer, I saw the small couch next to the DJ’s booth. I guess that was the closest thing that this place got to a VIP longue. I noticed other players from the Mercury seated in the area. Each’s attention was focused on either a drink or a girl. Lexa took an open seat on the couch, and pulled me immediately into her lap. Her lips locked on my neck and she began to suck her mark into my skin._

_I squirmed some, but it became clear that no one was paying attention to us. She was bigger and stronger than me, and her hands were twisting me until I was straddling her. I was straddling Lexa Trikru at a bar with at least a hundred people around. I was straddling her and her lips were making their way down my neck and towards my chest._

_Fuck._

_I saw a camera flash then, and it startled me. It startled me because I could get fired if this hit the media. I could lose everything I had works so hard to achieve._

_So I pushed back against her hands that her holding on to my ribs. Holding me so tightly, it was hard to get her attention from her clear focus on marking my whole body as hers._

_“Lexa, please stop,” I say, but she is growling and sucking a deeper mark into the top of my right breast._

_I pushed her then. I pushed her because I needed her to stop. I was grateful that my hair was falling into my face, because I saw another flash. I pushed her hands out from under my shirt and tried to get off her lap._

_I was almost up, when her hand caught my wrist and she was pulling me back. Her eyes were no longer hungry. No they were angry. A rage that burned so completely that the blood rushed and I couldn’t hear much beyond my own raging pulse._

_Spittle and alcohol sprayed my face as she growled at me. “Where do you think you’re going?”_

_I tug at my wrist, but her grip is only increased in tightness.  “Please, Lexa. Let go.”_

_She got up then, and I was pushed back into the railing. People were dancing behind me, as she pressed her body against mine and her hands gripped my ass into her. Her words were cold, and her eyes still blazed, “You know you want me. You know you want to scream my name. So just relax.”_

_I am about to cry when I feel her squeeze my ass cheeks tighter. Her lips are so close to my ear, and she is whispering._

_“Please, thank you, Lexa and fuck me are the only words you need to remember for tonight.”_

_Lexa was pulled back from me then, and I was able to breath even if it was just for a moment. I saw Echo holding Lexa back from me. Her eyes dark and she was looking at me. Searching for any sign that what Lexa was doing was wanted. She must not of found it though, because she was hauling Lexa towards the door._

_“I don't care who the fuck you think you are. You don’t come into my bar and treat a woman like that,” Echo stated._

_Lexa had jerked her arm away then. Jerked away and was standing with the girl she had been dancing with before me. The woman was whispering something in Lexa’s ear and I watched as Lexa’s chest rose and puffed out ready for a fight._

_Her voice was loud, and she was yelling, “I’m Lexa fuckign Trikru. I am the only reason that this shit hole is even busy tonight. So how about you go back to your bar and get me another beer.”_

_Echo doesn’t back down though. Her chest raised, she is inches from Lexa’s face. “Get your ass out of here. NOW!” Lexa doesn’t move though. No she was squared up and ready for a fight._

_I swallow and duck edunder the railing. The crowd that was gathering allowed me to move against them because it just let them get closer to the action._

_I heard something break and then something else. People started shoving each other, and there were cameras out every where recording as Lexa turned over a table and the woman she was wished crushed her fist into Echo’s face. I didn’t want to see it though. As everyone was rushing towards the fight, I was pushing out the door._

* * *

I choke and my tears are finally starting to slow down. My chest is still fighting me to breath and I have to break away from Raven’s embrace because I need something to wipe my nose with.

Getting some half-ply toilet paper from the stall, I blow hard. The sound echoes through the cold tiled room, and Raven laughs a little. I know I sound like a blow horn, but really there is nothing I can do about it.

“What happened, Clarke?”

I take a deep breath and shake my head. I consider if telling Raven is the right thing to do. I had managed to avoid being named in the incident at the bar. I didn’t even go back to check on Echo. I sent her flowers instead with a thank you note, but I was too ashamed to try and apologize for putting myself in that position.

I open my eyes and look up at Raven.

> Raven and I had known each other since we were both admitted to Ark Academy. It was Ark or juvie. Together since fourteen years old made us best friends, and she knew then that I had been hiding something. But I still wasn’t ready to tell her.

“I can’t, Ray,” I say to her, and she nods. I know she’ll wait until I am ready to talk with her. “I think I just need to get out of here for today.”

She agrees, and her arm wraps around my waist and she is ushering me out of the bathroom.

Just as we leave the poorly lit room, the bell rings and students flood into the courtyard. I find Octavia in the movement of students immediately and the girl looks destroyed. I know that Octavia was proud of herself until now. She had used her voice and she thought she was doing a good thing. _Yeah, O’s a good kid_.

It makes me wish that my teachers saw me like that when I was here.

The shorter girl approached cautiously. I could see her fear, and it made me feel even worse. When she was close enough to speak but not in my personal space, she said, “I’m sorry, Griffin. I thought that… I just wanted your birthday to be special.”

I reach out and pull her into me. I am not supposed to hug my students but Kane can kiss my ass right now. Because I need to hug the girl.

I tell her, “You did nothing wrong. You made me feel so special because you cared enough to help me meet my celebrity crush.”

Octavia pulled back then, and her lip was tucked in between her teeth. She said carefully, “You can do better, Griffin.”

I nod, but I honestly don’t believe it. I don’t believe it because I’m just a teacher. Just a teacher as a school for juvenial deliquents. A grant funded program to try and help kids than just teach them what prison feels like.

The courtyard was empting and I pushed O a little. “Go to class, kid.”

She smiles and then heads towards Raven’s room. I look at my friend, and she says, “Don’t worry I got her. You just take care of you.”

~~~~~

Kane doesn’t question me wanting to leave, so I make my way out of the office and towards my car. The clouds are dense and the sky getting darker by the minute. I know a storm is going to hit any minute. A few heavy drops fell, and within a minute the sky is crying.

I take the last few steps to my car and feel the gust of heavy wind pressing me back towards the building. If it wasn’t for the push, I may not have noticed the orange envelope flapping under my wiper blade. As I pull it out, the blade of the wiper completely detaches itself from metal holder.

Looking up at the sky, I cry, “Why can’t anything go right today?”

The sky doesn’t answer me with anything more than its own mourning. I wonder if nature is upset for me, but then I just laugh at myself. I mean I’m not that important.

> I had some serious issues with self-value. I still don’t know if I can look in the mirror and not see a failure.

Twisting the key in the door, I unlock the driver’s side and sit down in the well-worn seat of Kane’s hand-me-down car. I look at the windshield and see the drops splashing against the glass. The dust running down the window.

_Maybe nature is not crying for me. Maybe its just help me wash her away._

I choose to go with that. Turning on the car, the let the engine warm up some. Old cars need consideration like that. Like my old house, that I am seriously hoping has not sprung a roof leak. I look at the envelop and bite my lip. I’m not sure what is inside but I recognize it as the one that Lexa was holding in my room. Whatever it is, is from her. I don’t know if I can handle a gift from her.

I decide I am being ridiculous though. Pressing the metal clasps together, I open the top. The picture comes out easily enough. Its her.

She is so beautiful in her uniform. I shake my head, trying to remember that she is not who I idolized her to be.

I have to remember that because she is not kind. I don’t know if I deserve better, but I can’t keep doing this to me.

I start to put the photo back in the envelope, but something catches my eye. It's the writing. The writing on the photo.

“Ticket box has two VIP passes waiting for you for tonight’s game. Happy Birthday,” and then her signature.

The swooping L and slash through the x.

It’s beautiful… beautiful just like her.

 _Stop it_ , I think. But it's the playoffs.

I bite my lip and make up my mind. The Mercury were my team before fucking Lexa Trikru came to Phoenix, and I’m not giving up on them. No they were in the playoffs and I had free tickets. I was going.

Pulling out my phone, I shoot Raven a text. I know she won’t want to go, but she’ll go because I ask her too.

“Jeans and chucks tonight! Scored VIP tickets to the game tonight.”


	4. Apologies and Accidents

**~Clarke~**

We are late, and it's all because Raven had to fight me on whether or not I should wear my jersey. I know its _her’s_ , but its also mine. Raven knows that because she bought it for me for Christmas last year.

I have worn it to every event since.

I have worn it to every home game this season.

And they have won every home game, securing a playoff seat.

I mean, the real question is: _how can I not wear it?_

Thirty minutes of arguing. Ridiculous.

> So, I’m superstitious. It’s really not that big of a deal. I just wanted to help my team out and if that involved wearing a Trikru jersey, then I would do my part and wear the jersey. I know, I am sacrificial like that. A true saint right here.

We make it to the arena, and the big screen in the lobby shows that tip off had already happened, and Lexa is in possession of the ball. I stop to watch as she drives toward the center and goes in for an easy lay-up. The ball sinks in but the center hit Lexa mid air and she was sprawled on the floor holding her face.

 _No. No. No. I don’t care how mean you are. This is the play-offs. Get up!_ I scream in a silent voice through my eyes to the scream.

Raven is laughing at me though, and I know I must look panicked. She drags me to the closest ticket window. I can’t deal with that now though, because my eyes are still locked on the screen where the team doctor is checking out Lexa’s nose. It doesn’t look to be bleeding, but I know that we need her.

> "We", like I play for this damn team. When it came to the Mercury it was always “we”. I realize looking back that maybe I was a little overly obsessed for a grown ass woman.

Raven calls me but I wave her off. I say to her, “Not now. I need to know if she is okay.”

I feel her hands in the back pocket of my jeans then, but that is okay because Raven has at one point had various fingers of both hands inside of me so her hand in my pocket is the least of my concerns.

I feel her press a kiss to my cheek, and pay little attention as she tells me, “I just need your ID, Princess.” I press my face into her lips and get another kiss without having to break my gaze from Lexa getting up.

_Thank god._

The teams are each in a huddle, Mercury having called a time out. I feel something slip over my head and glance down to see the purple lanyard with the huge plastic ticket holder in it. The ticket is huge with foiled lettering, and Lexa’s photo is on it as she goes up for a layup.

I hold it for a moment, and just look at her. Even after everything that has happened, I just wish it would have been different. I wish she would have been that girl I watched hold up her jersey just after the draft.

Raven wraps her arm over my shoulders and she is pushing me towards the huge glass doors where a little old man in the oversized orange jersey. I smile at the Jason, and hold out my ticket.

“Hello, Clarke,” he said. His voice is tired, but I can hear the happiness in it. I see him regularly.

“Hey, Jason,” I say back to him as he hold the scanner over the ticket barcode. I hear the three little beeps of approval, and see him smiling at me.

“VIP tonight, you must know someone in big places,” he says with a wink, and I can’t help but want to hug him for being him.

Raven’s ticket also beeps three times, and her arm is back around me. She leans in to Jason and says not too quietly, “More like some is groveling for being a dick.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up, and he asks, “Who’s keester do I need to kick?”

I shake my head and feel my hair flop side-to-side, “No one, Jason. We have to go. My team needs me.” He waves to us as we walk through the doors.

We make it fifteen feet in the door and Raven abandons me for food. Seriously the girl is all bones and continuously chowing down. If I ate like her, my ass would never fit into my jeans again.

I have lost all patience in waiting for her. I lost my patience because I feel like she is intentionally trying to make me miss the game. I follow my ticket instructions and make it to entry 101.

I look to the next set of information, and see that the row is a letter, and the letter is A. The letter A is first. The first letter in the alphabet, which means the first row, and looking down I see the only two open seats. They are literally seated directly next to the Mercury bench and I feel like I may faint before I get there.

Not really, but that’s how I’m suppose to feel right. Like all of my dreams are coming true. That I get to be here, practically on the Mercury bench during the playoffs.

But then I remember.

Then I remember why.

I remember why I’m here.

Remember that its ‘cause of her.

That ‘cause she felt bad for being… herself?

Raven is behind me though. Her hip checking mine, as she makes her way down to our seats. She looks back at me and I predict that she is thinking ‘well you made me come and I told you this was a bad idea.’

 _Yeah, I get that you think it's a bad idea…_ but Lexa is running the ball down the court and she scores. She scores and my hands are above my head and I am jumping up and down yelling, “Yeahhhh!”

Checking the scoreboard, I see that we are up by six, but in basketball that is two three pointers, or three lay-ups, or two shots with fouls for a chance of and extra shot. Really the combinations of scenarios that could lead to chaos of my team losing are immeasurable, but it doesn't stop me from worrying about each and every one of them.

I make it to my seat, where Raven is already getting comfortable. She hands me a soda in the red and white coke cup and I take a sip. It’s perfect just like my best friend is, and it makes me happy that I have her. Her arm is already around the back of my chair, as I settle into it. But my back is straight as I see the teams running back towards us.

Lexa is at the far end of the court flashing two and then five fingers, she is calling out “Orange slide.” I move to the edge of my chair, never being this close before, I watch as Tris sets the screen for Lexa, who moves past the Stars’ forward. She passes the ball to Emori. Emori fakes a shot, and bounces it back to Lexa, who has run into the key. It’s an easy bank shot that falls in the net.

When her feet land though, I feel my heart rattle against my ribs. Her eyes are looking at me, and I feel like I made a mistake. Like I shouldn’t of come, or at least should have worn just a purple or orange shirt. She probably thinks that this means something. She probably things that everything she has done is okay and I have forgiven her.

I am breathing too fast, and I feel Raven’s arm around me, pulling me back into my chair. She is glaring at Lexa, whose brows scrunch for a moment and then she must remember she is in the middle of the game because she is running back down court.

“Clarke,” Raven is saying to me, and I am trying to get my shit together. I am trying so hard, but I feel like I am failing. “Hon, maybe we should go home.”

I shake my head though. I wasn’t going to run again. This is my team, and I am going to stay and support them. My heart is still beating to fast, but flows in time with the fast break that brings Tris back down the court.

Gradually, I lose focus of Lexa and they way her eyes keep finding me. Instead, concentrating on watching my team fight for another title. I eat the pretzel that Raven got me with the incredibly unhealthy cheese sauce, dipping torn chunks into the yellow stuff and shoving it into my mouth every time my team is playing defense on the other end of the court.

I become so engrossed in the game that I actually don’t even notice that halftime is approaching until the after we have counted down the last ten seconds with the rest of the crowd. But the team was headed our way then, and I found the green emeralds staring at me once more. They were locked on me, and I felt the uncomfortable warmth rising in my chest to my cheeks again.

_Stop it. She’s a bitch._

I can't stop it though, and Lexa is just a few feet from me. But I am being turned. Raven has her hands on me, and she turned me to face her. I don’t even realize what is happening until she presses her lips to mine. Its just a simple peck, nothing more than she had done earlier that night.

I smile at her, thinking that she had meant to hit my cheek. Its her eyes and the way they watch something pass by behind me that I realize what she has done. She kissed me because Lexa fucking Trikru was approaching me. She was approaching me and Raven didn’t want to see me get hurt.

I rest my forehead against Raven’s. She says a quiet, ”I’m sorry if that was-“

But I put my finger to her lips and I press another kiss to her cheek. I understand. I understand and I am not mad. “Thank you, for trying to protect me,” I say.

> Okay, so yeah I know kissing someone is really personal and should only be done when you are in love. I should say that Raven and I were a thing only for about two weeks, and it was more me than her. We were young and both living with Kane, and we knew what sex was. We just wanted our first time to not be with someone random or didn’t try to make us feel good. It was once… okay a few times. But at this point we really are just non-biological sisters. No creepy love triangle ahead. Raven wasn’t trying to make Lexa jealous. She literally just wanted to deter the seemingly determined brunette from entering my life again. Didn’t work out that way, but still she really did try.

Raven smiles and wraps her arms around me. Holding me in my second tight hug of the night. I feel completely secure in a Raven hug.

With her arms around me, I can’t help to remember my dad and how badly I missed him. That memory is followed by sitting on the floor in our shared bedroom. It was after my dad died, and my mom was faced with an additional hour drive to get me to Ark Academy or giving Marcus Kane custody. She was barely holding herself together so she signed the papers. So I was on the floor crying that she had gotten engine grease on my dad shirt. She begged me to tell her how to fix it and I just couldn’t process anything more than how much I missed him. She asked me how he hugged. The question confused me, but I thought about it. I explained that it was all encompassing, that I was full enclosed for as long as it took.

And she hugged me just like that. Hugged me hard and warm. She gave me something back that day, a piece of my father I thought was gone forever.

I feel her begin to loosen her grasp, and since the players are coming back out on the court I know we have been hugging for awhile. I feel her arm tighten around me though, and I know. I know without looking that Lexa is behind me just by the way Raven is holding on to me.

“Ms. Griffin,” I hear her say, and I can feel the shivers run up my back. I turn to see her and I smile. It’s fake and I can tell by the hurt in her eyes that she knows its fake. She has a ball in her hands though, and she is holding it out to me. “I was supposed to bring this to you today, but I fucked up,” she explained.

I didn’t know how to read this Lexa. This Lexa was an entirely different person. So different that really I am having trouble breathing because there is a lump in my throat. I carefully reach out to take the ball from her. I don’t want to touch her. I don’t want to give her a reason to shift again.

As I take the ball from her, I look up and see her eyes looking behind me. They run down what I can only assume is Raven and then back over to me. They were different eyes. They weren’t assuming, weren’t lustful, and weren’t angry.

It was like Lexa fucking Trikru had been inhabited by a sentient being capable of further emotions than just sex and rage.

“Thank you,” I say, and I turn slightly towards Raven to show her my prize.

Raven’s hand shoots out though and she is holding something. I turn back and see that she had caught Lexa’s wrist, as she was about to touch me. And just like that my blood is pulsing through my veins telling me to run.

Her voice is thick, and even I’m a little scared of Raven at the moment as well. She tells Lexa, “Don’t touch her.”

Lexa’s eyes don’t harden. Her lips are in a straight line, but her eyes are surprised. Surprised that Raven is holding her from me. I place my hand on Raven’s wrist and releases Lexa.

“You and I have a bad history of touching,” I say to Lexa, and I see her brows furrow. I am waiting for her bitchy comment. I am waiting for her to snap. But all I see her eyes squint at me. And I can see the moment she remembers. The moment she understands.

Brows raise as her mouth opens. Her chest is rising and falling, and I see tears building in her eyes. Lexa Trikru looks like she is about to cry, and I really want to hug her. I want to hug her, but Raven’s hands have found my hips and she is holding me to the ground. Not roughly, just holding me. Letting me know I am not alone.

Lexa shuts her mouth only to open it again. She does this a few times, but no words come out. Emori comes up behind her then, and startles her.

“Lex, let’s go,” the woman says, but then she looks me up and down. Her eyes to widen, and she states in a half whisper, half cry of concern, “You’re the girl from the bar.”

“I didn’t know… I tried the next day… I’m sorry,” and Lexa is panicking. She is panicking and halftime is over. “I’m so sorry, Clarke. I was..”

I grab her hand. I grab her hand and I squeeze it. Looking into her eyes, I can actually see the anguish buried there. Like the moment when someone realizes they have been playing for the villainous side and the person they hurt was a hero or worse an innocent.

I try not to stutter but it’s hard. It’s hard because I am holding her hand. I am holding the hand that almost hurt me because she didn’t care. It take me a second but I know that is all I have. I tell her, “Lex… Lexa Trikru, I forgive you. I forgive you because I need you to help my team win… later… later we can… talk.”

Lexa’s eyes blink. She says in a single breath, “I’ll win this for you,” and then she is running onto the court. She is away and I suddenly feel like I can breathe again. I lean back into Raven and her hands move around and up so she is supporting my back.

Her breath is warm on my neck, but its okay. Its not the dizzy breathey feeling. Just her presence. And she asks, “Were you the blonde in the photo from the bar fight?”

I nod. I nod because there is no reason to lie. There is no reason to try and hide something from Raven that she clearly already knew.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I lowered my head. My eyes traced the inconsistent pattern of the floor boards. Taking a deep breath, I confess, “I felt like I failed to protect myself and then I ran away from the person that protected me. I was ashamed.”

Raven’s arms tighten and she presses another kiss to my hair. I feel her chin make its way to my shoulder and she rests her genius brain on me. I can hear her smile when she says, “Well you have a new ball out of it, and apparently a very hot guard that is going to try and make it up to you. Do you think she is more than her latest catch phrase?”

I turn my head and look at Raven’s sparkling brown eyes, “What do you mean?”

Raven’s arms release, and she holds up her hands as she says at least somewhat quietly, “I’m Lexa FUCKING Trikru.”

I snort loudly, because even though she is quiet, you can hear the exclamation points in her words. I lean down and pick up my drink. Just as I take a sip, a body slams into me.

My lower back hits the chair behind me and there is a weight crushing me into ground. I feel the coke soak through my jersey and into my bra.

“FUccK!” I cry out. But then green eyes are over me, and her hands are touching me.

They are touching my head. Checking me for blood and bumps. And she presses on the side of my head, and I jerk away. I don't’ know if Raven thought Lexa was scaring me, but she pushes her off of me and onto her side.

> The media would later paint Lexa as a home wrecker. The obvious reason for Raven being so angry, since I must be her property. However, it was really nothing more than Raven being protective and Lexa being clueless.

“Get off of her,” Raven spits.

All play had stopped and the team medic is feeling my head and then my legs. Apparently, I hit my chair. When the woman’s fingers hit the bump on my head that Lexa had felt, I hiss again.

“Hey, I am going to take you back into the locker room to check out your head. Okay?” the woman is asking me. I look at Raven who is nodding at me. Her brown eyes are worried and it makes me worry.

“Can she come with me?” I ask.

The medic nods, and says, “Of course, your girlfriend can come,”

“Sister,” I say. My eyes scrunch as she helps me up with another person. Another person that is big and smells like old man cologne.

The room is so loud and I can’t process anything more than the pounding in my skull. My stomach drops as I realize that I will be missing the rest of the game.

_This is the worst birthday ever._


	5. Life Choices

**~Lexa~**

The pass is off. I lunge to keep the ball in play, but its momentum combined with mine sends me back into the crowd. I feel a body crumple to the ground with me. The chair the person was in or around screeches against the floor backwards, sending sharp pain through my ears. When I roll over, I see her. I see her under me dazed and covered in coke.

Her hand is moving to her head, and I hear her cry out, “FUUUccKK!”

I know I’m not supposed to touch her. The skinny girlfriend may kick me in the face if I reach down and touch her after hurting her again.

 _Again._ _Again. Again._ The word echoes in my head as I look at her eyes scrunched up in pain, and the small tear sliding out of a corner of her eyes. I have seen her cry every time I am around her. I have hurt her, every single time I come near her.

_You destroy everything._

I reach down though and I check her head. I check her head for open wounds. I find the bump with my fingers and press too hard because she winces and her blue eyes are staring up into me. I see the pain again.

I see the pain in the blue eyes. The blue eyes that I had danced with while Costia pressed her ass into me. The night we took first place for the Western Conference.

* * *

 

_~A Little Over a Week Ago~_

_We started drinking on the car ride over to Echo’s Escape. Laws about alcohol in the car were insignificant for someone like me. I just hit a three to win the fucking game. I hit the three to bring us another trophy and secure myself a contract for next year. Costia has her lips to the bottle of champagne and I watch as the bubbly drink spills from the side of her lips and trails down her chin into her breasts._

_I stop at the red light and lean over to lick up the mess. My tongue caressing her perfumed flesh. If I find no one else tonight, I know Costia will warm my bed. She has been there since Anya left. She was there when I felt like to world was breaking. She was there to remind me that I am big fucking star and everyone else can piss the fuck off. That I am Lexa fucking Trikru. Really she helped me get back on my feet when Anya took off her ring. She was my one friend that I didn’t have to pay._

_Her hand is in my still slightly damp hair, and she is arching her back into my mouth. The car behind me honks, telling me that the light is green. Its not an angry honk, but I give them the one finger wave as we continue on our path._

_Pulling up in front of the bar, I see Cos starting to get out but I wasn’t having it. I reached over and pulled the door shut again. Her dress was short, so slipping my hand under was easy. Her lips found mine almost immediately. She knew what I needed and she gave it to me. It was brief without any build up, because just being with me was build up enough. She screamed my name as her hands gripped the back of the headrest. I smiled pushing in harder with each thrust so that any passerby would know that I was Lexa fucking Trikru._

_I smile when I pull my hand from under her skirt. I look at the two wet fingers and then move them towards her mouth. I don’t do this part. I don’t do women’s vag juice near my mouth or on my clothes._

> _Anya was the only one. The only woman I ever buried my face into. She was my wife. I loved the way she would… Yeah, let’s not talk about that._

_Costia knew my limits. She took my fingers in her mouth and cleaned herself from them. I was satisfied with this resolution so I reached over and opened the door for her again. She was out before I was, and as soon as I was around my baby, her arm was snaked around my waist._

_The cheers when we walked in the door buried into my chest, and fuck it felt good. Felt almost as good as my family cheering when I escorted Anya into the reception. I closed my eyes. I closed them because she was gone. She chose to leave. And I was here. I was here and these people were cheering for me._

_“You’re Lexa fucking Trkru,” Costia whispers into my ear. I nod then and hold up my hand in the air. More cheers, and I couldn’t help but get lost in my new me. The me that people cried out for. Yeah, it felt so good._

_Costia left me with Emori and Tris. Each had a drink already, and Emori was holding onto that girl she had been seeing. The kid was maybe 20 and danced for the hip hop team at every home game. I won’t lie, I seen her move her ass and I couldn’t blame Emori for hitting that. The way she moved made me want to lay back with a strap and watch her ass move up and down. But I wouldn’t do that to Emori. No chick is worth team rifts for._

_Tris is looking around for her pick of the night. With a bar filled with fans and hot women there was no question that none of us were going home lonely tonight. If we were lucky, we would be taking more than one home. That was my goal. More than one._

_Costia returns with two beers and I decide that tonight she’ll be my spare. She’s done it before so I know all I have to do is find the one I want to take home.  Her eyes meet mine, and I say to her, “Let’s find one more.”_

_Her eyes are dark and I wonder briefly if she was hoping that I would choose her to take to my bed. But I brush it way. I mean she is part of the reason that Anya was gone, so she had to know there was no fucking way in hell I would settle with her. No, Cos would never be my one. The one was gone. So now… now it was about the moment._

_I pulled Costia to the dance floor. I needed whoever my choice was for the night to see that Cos would be there. We get to the center of the floor, and she presses her back into my front._

_This is how I prefer. I prefer not to look into her face. Not to see that she is not Anya. So she gives me her ass, and I grind into her._

_The blonde is what catches my eyes. There are few blondes in the room, and none as bright as her. She is sipping on something pink and she is watching me. I pretend not to notice the way she has drained most of her glass as her eyes are locked on me. My blood is pumping and I can feel the tingles of the alcohol rushing through my tired limps. But I still put on a show. I press Costia face down, so that she is ass up. I think of that line from that song by that dude, “Face down, ass up, that’s the way I like to fuck.” Yeah, that was how I liked Costia._

_The blonde though, no I wanted to see that face was she came. I begin picturing how I would press Costia’s face between her thighs and watch as those breasts bounced with every thrust I pushed in two Cos between us. My imaginings are interrupted though._

_I see her beautiful face turn to a taller woman. Her dark hair is done up tight and there is no doubt if I didn’t know that Echo was a stuck-up bitch I would have tapped that as soon as Anya dropped off her ring. Echo had the blonde’s hand though, and she was guiding her onto the floor._

_Echo must like what she feels in the blonde’s behind because she has the woman pressed against her. I have the best view though. I have the view of the sapphires still sizing me up. She was wearing a low cut purple shirt, and tight jeans. Her orange chucks, told me for sure that she had watched me play tonight._

_Yeah, she was the one I wanted to hold tonight._

> _Wait. No scratch that. ~~Yeah, she was the one I wanted to hold.~~  _

_Yeah, she was the one I would fuck with Cos tonight._

_I pressed the bottle mouth to my lips and drained the liquid down my throat. The bubbles tickled my throat, but I watched how the blonde swallowed each time I did. I smiled as the last drop passed by my lips but I held the bottle up longer because she was licking her lips._

_I knew that she was the one I wanted._

_The music faded, and Costia turned to me only for a moment and then realized I was looking somewhere else. She followed my eyes. Her gaze was knowing but she asked, “Is that the one you want tonight?”_

_I nod silently. She had turned and is speaking with the bar owner. Her jeans faded in just the right spots to make her ass look that much more tempting. I decide against just reaching out and placing a possessive hand over it._

_Turning to Costia. I tell her to go get us another beer. Her eyes are lacking their usual sparkle but she doesn’t question me. Just leaves me, bumping into Echo as she goes. The blonde’s hand gets dropped from the other woman’s and I know that this is my chance. So I take it._

_I never get her name._

_She says she knows who I am._

_I don’t worry, because she wants me._

_Echo is glaring at me from the behind the bar._

_Her and I have done this dance before._

_My hands reach for what’s mine._

_I pull her closer to me._

_She is pushing back so I move us._

_Taking us to the small territory claimed._

_Its there I try to claim her as mine._

_She struggles though._

_I think its just a new game._

_And I win every game._

_My grip is tighter, she begs._

_“Please, Lexa,” over the music._

_Her hands are pushing my down._

_I realize her wants my fingers._

_But then she’s up off me._

_And I’m pissed._

_She wants me._

_She has to want me._

_I’m Lexa._

_I’m Lexa fucking Trikru,                                 so I remind her._

_I see her getting upset,                          so I try to fix it._

_I promise to please.              She gives up._

_And I realize I won._

_I always win._

_Victory_

_Someone’s hands are on me, pulling me._

_Like what the fuck? I see Echo, and I see_

_the blonde. Crying. Echo made her cry._

_The owner is yelling at me. I don’t care._

_She terrified her. I want to protect her_

_from Echo, but I’m too angry to focus._

_Costia, “You’re Lexa fucking Trikru.”_

_I believe her words, so I start the fight._

_I flip the table, as Costia strikes Echo._

_Echo lunges at me, so Costia hits her._

_Looking back, but the blonde vanished._

_Gone in thin air when I fought for her._

_Echo yells at me._

_“You’re a fucking rapist!”_

_I wasn’t going to rape the blonde._

_I realize though. Cops have me in cuffs._

_I’m reliving those moments with her._

_The way she begged for me_

_… it was too stop._

_They put me in a small holding cell._

_Sterling silver walls still reek of vomit._

_I empty my stomach in the metal toilet/sink._

_My body’s natural reaction only adds the smell._

_None of it matters though, because I’m processed._

_They take my fingerprints, and post my photo online._

_Media blasts Lexa fucking Trikru’s drunk induced brawl._

_I fucked it all up, completely. Ruined what little good left in me._

_I can’t ever remember her face the next morning. I remember I never bothered to ask her name. I fucked up, but Indra is with me. Indra is talking publicity and how I really fucked up this time. I knew I had._

_I wanted to find the woman. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry. I thought that Echo would have her name. She had actually spoken to her. I… I had… I couldn’t even process what I had almost done._

_I hated myself worse in that moment. Worse that when Anya called crying over the photo. Over Costia straddling my lap only two weeks after she had been traded._

_Yeah, I have fucked up worse than ruining my marriage._

_I had almost raped a woman. I, the HRC Visibility Award Winner, had almost raped a woman at a bar in front of at least a hundred people. I couldn’t process anything other than my own words._

_Please. Thank you. Lexa, and fuck me are the only words you need to remember._

_I was a monster._

_No scratch that: ~~I was a monster.~~_

_I am a monster._

_I am Lexa fucking Trikru._

_I am the monster, Lexa fucking Trikru_

* * *

 

I am holding her head, and she is so close but so far away.

New knowledge is flooding through me.

_She knew who I was that morning and hadn’t said anything. She had even hugged me back._

I want to make her feel safe, but I don’t get the chance because the girlfriend is pushing me away. She is yelling at me not to touch Clarke. And I realize that I have no right to touch her.

Not after I hurt her.

Not after I violated her.

Not after I threatened her.

I don’t pull my hands away fast enough for the dark hair girl. She must know what I did to her girlfriend. She must know that I’m the monster an I haven’t just ruined her birthday once, but now twice. She pushes me away. No bending down to help Clarke, just getting my hands off her.

It makes me realize that something had happened after I had touched her earlier. Something that has the girlfriend afraid. I realize my responsibility in the fear and pain that is radiating from the blonde.

No matter how many times I say I’m sorry, it will not be enough. I will never be able to make up for putting my hands on her. I will never be good enough because I am tainted and I am damaged. I ruin everyone I touch.

I let Costia create me.

I let Costia crack me.

I let Costia ruin me.

The medics are checking Clarke though. They help her to her feet and they are taking her back into my domain. They are taking her into the team locker rooms. And she may have to wait there. She may have to be there the whole game, because I knocked her over.

I feel it before I can name it. It’s guilt that is fueling my blood. _I promised to win the game for her, and now she is not even able to see it._

I make a decision as I see her pulled to her feet. I make the decision to be better. To be better for her. Not to make her love me. I will be better so that no one gets hurt again like her. I don’t hurt someone because I let Costia make a monster of me.

> Really, Costia wasn’t to blame for me being a dick. That is on me. Clarke teaches me this in a fight one day when I blame everyone else. Costia was just a scapegoat. She tried to make me feel better and I took advantage of her. I feel bad at how this makes her look in the beginning. Maybe we should have done this in third person.

Clarke’s jersey is plastered to her chest. She is holding her head with her eyes closed. I hear her ask if the other girl can come with her.

_She must be scared to be alone. It’s all my fault._

The medics are kind and they tell her yes, and even acknowledge their relationship. It was hard not to notice, the way the cameramen had focused on the way the dark haired girl held her. Held her so perfectly, that I just watched while Quint gave his fucking speech about coming out strong in the locker room.

I was jealous of the brunette. Not because I wanted to mount the blonde. No, any hope of that was gone when I saw the way that the smaller woman leaned into the embrace.

I was jealous, because Anya used to let me hold her like that. In moments of quiet, the way I was allowed to support her usual strong and stony presence.

 _I’m sorry_ , I think. I don’t know who the apology is for. The blonde being led of the court, or the other blonde in another state moving on with her life.

“Sister.”

I hear it. I hear it, but it takes a moment to process. Looking at the brunette that had kissed her, I see her smile. Her dark eyes daring me to step up to her. I won’t. It’s not who I am anymore.

I ask, “Sister?” I don’t know if she’ll answer me. She owes me nothing, and she is clearly not dazed by me the way that Clarke is.

The woman moves foreword, but I am partially blocking her way. I can feel the sweat running down the crevice of my back, and I should move. I know I should. I don’t want to though. I want to know how this Latina knows Clarke. What their connection is.

She smirks at me, and says, “You’re in my way.”

I look down, and shift my weight on my feet before taking a step to the side. I shouldn’t have hoped she would give me anything. Not after I acted like such a douche. She moves passed me, and I notice a small limp in her gait. It is only then I see the dark brace framing her leg.

Without looking back at me, I hear her say, “Foster sisters, Commander Dickhead.” I smile at the words and shake my head. The ref is blowing his whistle and play is resuming without me. I look up to see Quint has put in Luna for me. It’s okay because I need a minute, or three. I need to catch my breath and make some personal decisions.

I want to be better.

I want to be more.

I want to be hers.

> Whoa! We need to maybe rephrase that. I don’t want to be Raven’s. No. Clarke's. Make it more clear, please. I don't care if it is poetry. Make it clear.


	6. Promises

**~Clarke~**

There is a sloshing in my skull, like my heart pumped too much blood to the dense grey matter and it is trying to find away out. The room sways from side to side when I open my eyes. It’s too much, and I feel the fake cheese and pretzel threatening to change the decorating pattern of the locker room.

Raven is watching the game on the television with my head propped up on her lap. I can’t focus enough to really be mad about not being able to see the game. I am more irritated that the coke is probably never coming out of my jersey.

I twist on my side, so that I am laying with my head turned into Raven’s stomach. Her fingers are carefully rubbing against my scalp. It’s relaxing, but I can’t sleep thanks to the continuous pressure of pain. Pain that already caused me to cry for the third time in front of Lexa. Three separate events of tears in a week. Twice in one day.

_Why can’t today just end?_

I try to ask Raven if we can go home, but my face is smoothed in the orange shirt that I made her wear. She laughs because apparently what she heard did not align with what I said.

“You wanna row a hoe cow?” Raven parrots back what she thinks I said.

It hurts to laugh, so I cry because I have to laugh. I can’t help it.

Raven shushes me though, and I feel her hand move down my back. The soft feather like touches help me breath a little easier. Breathing easier makes it possible to try and speak again. I turn my mouth from out of her shirt and say, “I wanna go home now.”

Raven’s hands continued to rub me gently avoid the areas that had been identified as bruised. I feel Raven apply the ice pack to the solid lump on the side of my head again.

“As soon as the docs say we can go, Princess,” she says softly. I appreciate her soft words because loud noises are still making the room spin.

~~~~~

I don’t know how long I lay there, every moment feels like an hour. Or maybe it is every hour feels like a moment. The pain killers the medics gave me are starting to kick in, and the time is perfect. They had just said we could leave, and I was readying myself to stand cognitively before I try physically.

Raven is holding her hand over my ear, and my eyes are scrunched up as fifteen rowdy women come bursting through the locker room doors. They are loud enough that I can’t escape the increase in pressure even with Raven guarding my ear.

“Shut the fuck up!” a woman’s voice screams over the rest, Thankfully the room becomes quieter. Raven’s hand softens and I feel her moving my hair.

She whispers to me, “They won, Clarke. Your team won.”

I hold up my hand in the direction of what I think is up with one finger extended. My face pressed again into her shirt, I say, “Nomb-er Won.”

I feel her hand pull my arm in a little of a different direction. I know she is helping me out, and now my hand is up. I twist so that it is easier to hold my hand up. Raven’s face is staring down at me and her brown eyes are lined so perfectly.

“You’re soo fucking beautiful, Ray,” I tell her. I just can’t help but admire her strong jaw, and her teeth are so perfectly white and straight. Kane had paid a lot of money for us both to have braces, and I am grateful every time I see her smile. See her smile like now.

_Fuck am I drunk?_

I reach up and rub my finger over her jawline. I don’t know where it came from, but it comes out. “You started dating, Finn. I was so lonely when you started dating him. And I saw her play and she was built like you. Her jaw was like yours. That's when I fell for her.”

Raven is silent. Her eyes watching me. Her eyes watching me so carefully, and fingers still strumming through me hair.

I realize what I just said. I realize it and my head aches as I try to process what I just told her. My best friend. My sister.

I groan out, “I’m sorry, Ray. I don’t… its just the drugs… I love you, but-“

Raven places her finger over my lips and she bends to press a simple kiss to my forehead. When she is seated back up, returns to playing with my hair as she says, “Princess, you don’t have to explain why you like her. Its okay, and I know we are just sisters.” Her fingers pause for a second and her eyes were so softly looking into mine. I see the glimmer and I know what is coming. I know she’s going to be an ass. But my head hurts too much to stop her.

She reaches down and takes my left hand. My strong hand. Her smile grows as she says to me, “Besides, we both know I’m more interested in your mom.”

I try to strike out at her, but she is holding my hand. The jerking of my body makes me sick, and I reach up with my other hand and hold my head.

“You’re so gross. She’s my mom. I came out from her and I am fucked!” I try to argue. But Raven is laughing to hard.

Her stomach rolls as she laughs and she is shaking my head. It hurts but she is so happy so I just try to deal with the pain. She is carding her fingers through my hair again, and she says, “You came out, I want in.”

I shove her then harder. She rolls back some and her laughter bounces my head. It hurts more, but I can't have her fingers on me when I know she is picturing having sex with my mother.

> Raven has always had a disturbing fascination with my mother. When Abby would come to visit, Raven and her would spend time together while I hid out in my room. I still felt betrayed that she had turned my dad over. Blamed Abby for the fall out. Blamed her for giving me up.
> 
> She stopped coming around, after she caught me and Raven making out. I still pray that they never had sex. I can’t image that Raven would sleep with my mom after we slept together. But, it has always been some twisted joke between the two of us.

“How you feeling?” I hear the tired voice from the door. I try to open my eyes again, but it was too bright and all of Raven’s shaking made me feel like hurling again.

“I lost my ball,” I say. I don’t know why that is what I have to say to Lexa. But it’s all I got.

I wonder if she heard me.

I wonder if she knows that I like her.

I wonder if she would ever be different, be safe.

I open one eye, and it doesn't overwhelm me. I see her standing in the doorway. Her eyes are looking me over. I consider if I should say something else, but she is gone in a moment. She left us in the small glassed in medical room, and I groan.

I groan in irritation and pain. I am not sure which is worse. I just want this fucking day over. I don’t realize that I am muttering out loud, but Raven starts snickering at my commentary, “I want to go home. I want to snuggle with Rexa, and mostly for this fucking day to end.”

Raven hops down from the table. I see her rubbing at her thigh. I know she had probably been cramping and the weight of my head most likely didn’t help.

“I’m sorry, Ray,” I say to her, but she is waving me away.

She stands up and stretches her arms back. Her smile is bright like always, and she says, “Okay, Clarkey let’s go see Rexa.” Shaking her head, she admits, “I still can’t you leave you named your dog that.”

We take the few step to the door when Emori stops in front of us in nothing up a bra and her shorts. Her dark hair is slowly being uubraided, and she is standing there, just blocking our exit.

Her dark eyes sized me up, and I feel the itch to move. I want to move quickly past her, because she was there. She was there with Lexa, and she just watched. Watched Lexa hold me in her lap as she sipped on her beer like we were some late night cop show.

Her eyes were stormy and I can tell she is conflicted. Quietly, she confesses, “I failed you that night.” I recognize her voice as the one that demanded quiet in the room.

Raven squirms next to me, and I feel her arm wrap around me, supporting me.

I feel the ground shift on axis. Tilting away from the natural order of things and it makes me wish that I am still laying on the table.

I reach out, and Raven takes my hand. But there are another set of hands on my arms and it is Emori holding me up.

She doesn't waste any more time, though. She pulls me into her embrace, and she is holding on to me. I feel her heart beating so hard, but still I hear her whisper, “I stood by and I should have helped you. I’m sorry.”

I reach out under where she is holding me and I hug her ribs. I wrap my arms around her and try to embrace my inner Raven.

I hold her to me tightly. My hands open on her back; pulling her into me so that she is fully embraced. Her breathing is erratic as first, but I feel her gradually calm in my arms. Her face is wet when she pulls back from me, but she is smiling.

“Thank you,” she says. I smile at her. I am not sure why but it just seems like the right thing to do. I remove my hands from her back and run my fingers under her eyes.

There are no words for this moment together. This moment of understanding that neither of us would let another woman be scared while we stand by.

Tris came to me next. Her arms were smaller, and she was so young compared to the others. Her arms wrapped around my lower back. She doesn’t utter any apologies, but hugs me. I hold her sweat-sopping head to me. When she breaks away, she smiles at me. Her smile is faint and not bright like Lexa’s, but I can see the sorrow in her eyes.

> Tris is still avoids speaking with me as much as possible. It’s been almost a year now and she still won’t talk about that night, or the one at the bar.

Raven’s arm wraps around me again when Tris pulls away. She barely whispers a goodbye as she moves back to her locker. Looking up, I nod to Raven. She releases my waist and walks along side of me.

As much as I want her to hold me, I know she struggles on cold, rainy nights like these to fight the stiffness in her limbs. So we walk side by side past my team that are quietly celebrating their victory. I feel bad that they had to tamper their excitement because I was in the way.

As we get to the door, Caris and the male medic held the door open for us. I turn to the team, and see that everyone is watching us. There are a few whispering to each other, but even their eyes are on us.

Something tells me that I have to take advantage of this moment.  I mean when will the entire Mercury team actually listen to the words coming out of my mouth. I speak as clearly as possible, taking the time to annunciate.

I say, “You all were awesome. I know that all of us in the X-factor are so proud of where you are right now. Please keep it up so we can celebrate a Playoff Victory with a home court advantage.”

The players all smile proudly at me, and I feel like maybe today hasn’t been the worst.

We turn to leave, Raven smiling and I nodding a thank you to those that are holding the door. The doors close behind us, and we hear the locker room erupt again. I can’t contain the squeal that breaks from my lips.

 _I just spoke to the entire Mercury team, and they listened._ But something feels a little off because it wasn’t the whole team. No, Lexa was missing.

Raven looks at me and barely knocks into my shoulder. “Happy Birthday,” she says.

I scrunch my lips together, and I answer, “Yeah, it sure has been a birthday huh?”

Raven’s body pushed against mine when we talked outside. Chill cut through my still wet jersey and I pressed my body to Raven’s. I can feel her shivering too, but the glass doors of the emptied stadium have closed. We have no place to go but towards the questionably, dark abandoned parking lot.

> People are going to think that I continuously put myself in danger. Maybe we should consider just leaving the parking lot scene out. I mean it was like two minutes of awkward dialogue, and a page of scary: ‘What’s going to jump out at me?’
> 
> Fine. But I still feel that maybe there should be music, like DUN DUN DUNN!!!

We hold on to each other. Neither willing to admit that walking into a dark parking lot is scarier than the fact that it was raining and cold. We can see the black corolla from where they are.

The crappy car is parked just across the street, in the gravel lot. The lot that is empty except for my car. We wait at the corner for the whitish green little walking man. We wait even though there is not a single person or car on the street.

I stare at the pedestrian signal that is perpendicular to the corner we need to cross. The flashing hand is counting down from fifteen.

Fifteen seconds until we can move into the white lines for pedestrians.

_Moments like this I hate the times Marcus taught laws have a reason._

Fourteen seconds, but I think the timing is off on this stupid light.

_Lexa seems like she really is sorry… maybe I can just let it go._

Thirteen  seconds, each  flash seems slower than the last.

_Maybe I should stop by Echo’s, I owe her a real apology._

Twelve seconds: my nipples are fighting for liberty.

_Fuck its cold. Fuck. Fuck. Why is it so fucking cold?_

Eleven seconds and Raven is laughing at me.

_I just want my Rexa… and a maybe a Lexa._

Ten seconds and Raven twists my nip.

“Douche, I am going to leave you.”

Nine seconds to go, she plots.

_I am going to leave her here._

Eight seconds, I slap her.

“They’re sticking out!”

Seven seconds

“Princess.”

Six left.

“No.”

Five more.

_I can’t believe it._

Four to go; we hear it.

_Are those foot steps coming?_

Three, and my heart starts racing.

_Fuck. Hurry up! Hurry up! Please. Fuck._

Two is two too many, so we cross quickly.

_Just try to act normal. Play it cool. Don’t panic._

One: one step, another. One foot after the another.

_They’re getting closer. We should run. We need to run._

To say I am scared is an understatement. The parking lot is too dark and the steps are getting closer. We see another person walking across the other end of the parking lot. The rain is coming down though and its hard to see the person. Its too difficult to make out anything more than the way the swing their arms.

I can here the person speaking though. Babbling about how they have done it before and they will do it again. That they are the chosen one.

I swallow and I know Raven is freaked out too. I wonder if she said something, but all I hear are the footsteps. Every fiber of me wants to run, but I can’t. I can’t leave me sister.

 

> I should be allowed to scratch that. It sounds unbelievable cheesy, and we both know I am not that cheesy.

Raven is moving faster though, so I move faster. Trying to get to the car, and get the door unlocked. My brain is moving too fast, and the steps are now running, but the rain is pounding. Or is that my blood in my ears.

“Wait!” The word yelled through the wind and down pour just as the car door is unlocked and Raven had hurtled herself within.

I know that voice, but I still want to get into the car and drive away. Too much has happened and all I want is Rexa and bed. Rexa and bed is enough.

“Please,” she says though. So I look up. I look up and see her long dark hair completely drenched from the rain. Curls spirally out and her white jersey complete fixed to her body. In one arm, she is holding a basketball.

I shake my head, and tell Lexa, “I didn’t mean for you to go find it.”

She is holding it out though, and I take it. Running my finger over the signature. I am amazed that within fifteen hours the confident Lexa was gone and this new person that stands before me twists and struggles to speak. When she speaks, her voice wavers unsteadily, “I couldn’t find it. I had to get a new one.”

She doesn’t move from her spot, just stands and arm’s distance away. “I had one job today. Come to your school. Give you the photo and ball. Tell you happy birthday.”

I smile weakly, and answer, “Well you kinda did that… I mean you definitely said happy birthday with my name and everything. If it had been last week, I would have been more receptive.”

“I want to make it up to you,” she says so quickly, I think I misunderstood her. In fact, I am positive I misunderstood her. But she says it again. “Please, let me try to give you another birthday.”

My eyebrows scrunch as I try not to be such a literal person. I fail though. “Um, Lexa, birthdays are once a year. It's the day I was born. Which was today. So basically you are asking for next year.”

Lexa’s eyes brighten some. It's a shade of green I don’t think I have ever seen before, but it is brilliant. Brilliant and I don’t stand a chance.

“That’s what I want.”

Raven is out of the car then. She is standing in the rain with us, and she is asking, “Excuse me?”

Lexa turns to her, but then her eyes are back on me. Her voice no longer trembling, just the gentile chatter of our teeth. She proposes, “Give me a year to be the girl you dreamed of. Let me show you who Lexa Trikru is. Let me show you the friend that I can be. One year until the next birthday, and if by this time next year, I am not someone more than Lexa fucking Trikru, I will disappear. Take a contract with another team and sit out every Mercury game for the rest of my life.”

I shake my head, and say, “This is crazy and I would never ask that of you. We had a bad interaction. Its okay. I’m a no body. Next season, I will go back to mid-level seat and you will never notice me.”

She takes a step forward, but Raven slams her door, and growls, “Not another step.”

Lexa doesn’t take another step. She stand still and promises, “Please. One year to be your friend. To prove that I am not a monster.”

My feet feel like lead. Like even if I wanted to just get in my car and pretend that Lexa Trikru had not just asked to be my friend and to spend a year groveling for grabbing my ass and scaring me, I wouldn’t be able to move.

The rain slows as we stand still. Her eyes begging me for this chance, and I remember looking at Abby that way. I remember looking at Abby to give me a chance.

She had signed the papers.

She had given up on me.

She had walked away.

But, I wasn’t her.

“One year.”


	7. Friend Rules

**~Clarke~**

I don’t know how we got home that night. Raven was insufferable most of the drive.  I look over the list in my phone that she added. Conditions and topics I need to discuss with Lexa if we are to be in the same room together.

Its late, and the Arizona air is unusually cold for mid-October. My hair is still wet, but the cotton sheets and thick comforter make the biting air more of a comfort than an irritation. Rexa curls up on the opposite side of the bed. The chunky pit bull was snoring loudly, her head locking my foot to the bed. Rexa always had to have some form of contact and it makes me feel important. At least to one living being in this world, I am important.

> Like I said before, I didn’t really think of myself important. I mean my mom just went on with her life once I was gone. Like I had never existed. However, I guess she was like that before I was gone. I don’t know.

My phone is in my hand, and I keep looking over the list. I chewed on my lip until the skin broke and metallic flavoring tings my tongue. The notification system drops down and it’s a Facebook request.

Its dark, and I am curled into my bed with my Rexa, and Lexa is trying to communicate. My finger slides to the app, and I am staring at the friend request. Lexa’s smiling face in a candid photo that the public has probably never seen. But I get to. Lexa Trikru’s personal Facebook page was waiting for my acceptance as a friend. A friend to Lexa Trikru.

I try to pull my legs up, but Rexa isn’t budging. So I lie there. I rub my fingers over the soft material of the sheets and the feeling of the dark cotton makes me wonder if she is sitting in bed waiting for me to accept. If she sleeps in a giant bed with satin sheets, or if its just a bed. Just like this one. With just a comforter. Could Lexa be just a woman, like me?

But she’s a professional basketball player. People buy things with her name on it. Little girls hang her poster up, and buy shoes because she wore them. How could she be a normal person? How could she be sitting up in bed, hoping that I would just click a button?

A wave of realization is rushing me, and I cling the covers tighter to my chest. _That’s stupid. She’s out with some girl celebrating._

Knowing I am just prolonging something I agreed to do, I finally decide to do it. Just click the button. It’s not hard. _But it is._

I click the accept button.

I click it and release the breath I don’t realize that I’m holding. I know that I just welcomed her into my world. The world that had twenty-four friends. Twenty-four people that I allow to be someone intimate enough to share photos with, and the occasional rant concerning the state of the world.

The phone buzzes almost immediately. I am holding the phone just staring at the banner across my screen showing that I have a message from Lexa. My heart beats a little faster, and I know I am crazy for hoping that I matter. But I can’t help but think:  _she was waiting._

Nervously, I read over the words. They are simple, and I wonder if she expects me to answer. If she wants me to answer? If this is a test, and if I answer, am I just playing into her game? And really there are just so many if with possible thens.

The more I think about it the more confused I get. I mean its not even a question.  Just a few words. A few words that make me wonder more “if”s and their counterpart “then”s. But the underlying issue, is I am scared. I am terrified is more like it. Because its not the cold that is making my skin prickle. Its the terror of what Lexa Trikru hopes to accomplish by knowing me. And whether it is for the good or bad, what that means for me.

I read her message again: _“You won’t regret this.”_

I read it again and again. Too many times for any sane person should care about the vague compilation of words. But this was Lexa Trikru.  

The woman whose face had helped me finish myself too many times to count.

The woman whose face had haunted my nightmares this last week.

The woman whose face had hindered my trust in myself.

The woman whose face had fallen in realization.

The woman whose face had smiled once.

Looking at her profile again, I browse through her personal albums. Photos of her wedding, and the familiar dark haired girl from the bar standing next to the bride in the white dress. “Costia and her big sister,” are what it reads. Some pieces start to fall into place for me, but it still hurts to see how happy Lexa looked once. How full of life she is in her black suit holding on to Anya’s hand.

 _What happened to you?_ I ask her. I ask and I wish she could tell me. I am about to close my phone, when I realize I’m not tired. I’m not tired, because I can speak with Lexa Trikru from a safe distance.

So I give it a try. I try to text a response, but it sounds dumb. I really have nothing and I can’t ask the hard questions because what if she just ignores me.

I settle on: “Why are you not celebrating?”

I bite my lip, and the little icon next to the message turns blue that it sent, and then her face is by it showing me she is or has read the question.

Three dots tells me she is writing me back, and my stomach twists in knots. I can’t discern if it is because all I ate for dinner was a pretzel or that she was there. As I watched the ellipses wave, more questions flood my mind; overwhelming my sense of self. I ask myself: if she would realize that I am not worth her time? Or: if I let her in would she hurt me again?

Her message comes through faster than I have time to work out all of my worst-case scenarios, _“I vowed to myself that I would take some time to myself. Get my head straight and keep focused for the playoffs.”_

I press my thumbs to the screen, and ask the question that is the termite in my brain. Eating away at me since the night at the bar. “Why?” I leave out the me. I don’t know if I am ready for that part of the story. To know why Lexa fucking Trikru decided to single me out as her choice.

I close my eyes, and wait. Wait for her sudden change of attitude. Wait for her to make up an excuse.

I don’t know how much times passes. Really the concept is arbitrary, a minute can feel like an hour and an hour like a minute. I start to consider how long it has been. I start to wonder if maybe she went to sleep and if I have stayed up too late just waiting for her.

 I contemplate the time space continuum, and the phone buzzs again.  

_“You were shining. Like a star in the pitch. I knew when I saw you that I was pulled to you. I was drunk. I was drunk though and I was only hearing what I wanted to hear. I have been doing that since everything with Anya a few months ago. I’m sure you heard about it on the news. But I was really messed up, and I seem to keep fucking up.”_

A moment later, she sends another.

_“I know it means nothing yet, but Clarke I am sorry. I will never be able to say that enough, because I fucked up. I fucked up worse than what I did to Anya.”_

The raindrops hit the roof and the gravel outside. Rexa snores are louder now and normally that helps with the emptiness that is my life and my home. Right now though, nothing is comforting the pounding in my chest. The way that my heart feels like it is trying to escape the cage I have kept locked so tightly, so completely.

_“I’m sorry.”_

I grip the phone and wipe away the tears and have broken through. The apology and reasons were nothing, but it was more than my mother ever said. She never apologized and in one day Lexa had apologized at least three times. I wipe at my face. First my eyes and then my nose. The fucking snot never fails to make me on of the most unattractive criers I know. I try to message her back, but it sounds stupid.

I start with, “I want this to work.” But I didn’t know what this was, so I delete it.

I almost went with, “Can we start over?” but that seriously gave her an out for almost touching me in places I didn’t consent to. I think though that she really hadn’t touched me without my consent. She was definitely going to. _Well, she grabbed my ass after I tried to pull away._

Finally I settle with, “I am still concerned about being around you so I need to ask some things from you.”

I stare at the three dots, and then read, _“Like rules?”_

Chewing on the inside of my lip, I write back, “Yeah, rules. We can call them ‘friend rules’.”

I wonder again what she is doing right now. I try to picture her, but the only image I see is her splayed form on a couch staring up at me with a bottle to her lips. Her angry eyes just watching me. I shake the image as best I can from my head. She hasn’t respond right away, so I try to lighten it a little. I give her the rule I wish Raven and our brother Murphy would respect.

“Friend rule #1: you may pee with the door open, but not when I am in the room.” I add a smiley face, in hopes that it will help show I am trying.

Three dots appear, and I read, _“Ha ha I don’t even do that with people I’ve known my whole life.”_

The smile is uncontrollable, and I respond immediately, “I do!!!” Then add, “Always.” Send.  “I don’t shut doors. LOL”

She answers then _, “2 people ever! And we were dating.”_

A second later, _“Not at the same time of course lol”_

I take a chance then, “What rules do you have with your friends”. I forget to add the punctuation and quickly admonish the English teacher in me. _You look dumb._

 _“Honestly people I’m truly friends with… I don’t have any. I’m an all in or all out person.”_ Her answer throws me for a second. It just so casual, and it makes me nervous. Nervous to forger. I have to remember that this is the woman that pushed me into a rail telling me that I was going to fuck her whether I like it or not.

I type back: “I don’t feel safe enough for that. So friend rule 2: at no time may you touch me without my permission.”

The three dots appear and wave, telling me she is answering. But then they pause. And then they disappear. They appear again, and then disappear again. The sky and me seem to be linked in some fashion today because as I wait my heart beats faster and the rain pounds to the ground harder.

I realize that whatever she is writing she is deleting and that this is extremely nerve-wracking.

I am beginning to think she is going to tell me off. That she is done feeling guilty and I hurt her feelings. But she answers with just agreements. “ _Ok no hanging out alone.”_

Its only moments until the tension is broken though. She gives her first rule: _“No shitting with the door open! No talking about your shit and I don’t want picts of it.”_

I snort, causing Rexa to jump up and scan the room for an intruder. I shake my head as my brother’s face pops into my head.

> I am familiar with the proud poopers. Murphy, even as an adult, will visit and poop in the toilet just to leave it there. “What are fosters brothers for?” is his usual response, but still it’s so gross. I bought into this rule immediately, thinking there was no way that we would never pass the public poop problem.

“Done!” I type and send.

I make the next one, thinking with my stomach. “Friend rule: You may not try to make me eat food I tell you I don’t like.”

Freeing my foot from Rexa’s head, I pad my way to the kitchen and pull out two blueberry Egos. Checking that the toaster hasn’t been adjusted from 5 to 3 by a magic elf, I wait. Sitting on the laminate counter top, I check the messenger again.

_“Well that's no fun”_

 “Too bad.” Enter. My lips are teasing with a smile. “Your turn.” Enter.

The toaster pops when the messenger buzzes. I pull the steaming processed waffle from the toaster, and take the bite. Take a bite even though I know it will be too hot. I try to chew quickly and avoid my precious tongue, but I can’t. Its too hot and it burns my mouth, and _damn it! Why do I always do that._

When I have swallowed the first bite, I set the remainder back onto the toaster, and I read her message, “ _I do not discuss religion or politics. You can tell me what you are and I’ll accept you but that’s it_ ,” I nod as though she can see me sitting half naked on my kitchen counter in the dark.

I think as I take a second bite. The crumbs fall and I set the waffle down to wipe at my naked breasts. I know I should wear a shirt when I eat crumbly food, but I always forget.

Realizing the ridiculousness of my life, I type out: “You may at no time mention me in the media.”

She answers with a follow up question, and I smile that she is saying up on her night of success to hash out friend rules with me. _“What about social media?”_

“You’re a superstar. Let me lead my unimportant life,” I tell her.

But she asks again, _“Again what about social media”_

I am a little confused what is unclear about this rule. I mean she has to realize that social media is a form of media. I get a little snarky.

“No social media.”

“And my name.”

“Or photo.”

“Ever.”

She takes a second as the bubbles move again, and I make it to the second waffle. _“And that goes both ways. Don’t mention me either”_

I don’t think before I send the next one. No it comes out, and I forget who I’m talking to. “Like I want to be associated with you right now.”

> Yeah, that was a low blow. I swear it wasn’t planned. I wasn’t even trying to be funny. I just came out. Honest.

But she must have sent hers when I sent mine, “Expect just general good luck team or good job.”

She must have read my comment, because it is radio silence on her end. I want to continue talking to her though, but I can’t apologize. I can’t because I really am not sorry. But I am.  _Damn it!_ I feel like a douche. I mean that was just rude. I am talking to Lexa fucking Trikru and I am being rude.

I need a change of topic, because I need her to still be there. I need her to keep her word. I need to feel important, so I type out: “No loaning money. You either give it or you say no”

I hold my breath and wait. I hold it and count, waiting and hoping to see three dots. Rexa’s head finds my dangling foot and she licks my toe. It causes me to squirm, and I lose my grip. I lunge for the tumbling phone, but I miss and barely catch myself on the counter.

My phone. My two week old iPhone6 falls to the tile floor with a deadly  _smack!_  I scream, “FUCK!” with clenched eyes and a face contorted with enough pain to think I had been stabbed.

Getting down from the counter, I squat and pick up the phone. The screen is lit, and spider like cracks decorate the glass.

The banner says, “ _Good one!”_ And I am torn again between being happy that she answered and pissed. Pissed that my phone is now shattered.

I try to slide, my finger across the screen to unlock the screen but  I don’t even make it half way before I feel the glass sliver enter my finger. Immediately, I put the digit in my mouth and suck harshly. Staring at the phone, I pop my finger out of my mouth and try to see through the dark if I am bleeding. I see nothing, so I turn my attention back to the phone.

There are cracks completing the entirety of the surface. No way for me even to open the screen without possibly ruining it. Well I don’t think so. I mean I know about as much about phones as I do about cars. Nothing. I set the useless phone on the counter and move back to my bedroom, finger back in my mouth.

Pulling my iPad from the nightstand, I click open messenger app open and wonder if Lexa is still waiting for me. She hasn’t said anything else, but I get the feeling she is letting me lead the conversation. “No talking about who you have sex with,” I tell her.

Lexa answers, “What about how good I am?” It came so quickly, I wonder if she thought about it. I wonder if she thinks about all the ways she says things wrong after she hits send. Worries that the message will be taken wrong.

“No.” I don’t say she has already told me that I will enjoy her. I don’t tell her that even though she almost forced herself on me that I still wondered what her lips would feel like. I don’t tell her that I have said her name more times with my fingers on my clit that I think her just being in the room would be enough to be better than anything I have ever had.

Instead I tell her, “You can’t drink when you’re with me,” and I follow it up with, “I don’t feel safe when you’re drunk.”

She answers immediately, “Or drugs.”

I feel the tug of a smile because she understands. The rules are making me feel better. Making me feel like we can hang out and I would be okay to sit in a booth next to her. I think about going out and I realize that she may want to change but she still has a lot of making up to do, and it’s not just to me.

I state, “I want you to apologize to Echo. And I don't ever want to see Costia again. I don’t care if she is your best friend or that she is your ex’s little sister.” She doesn’t comment on how I know that information. She must know that I snooped through her album on Facebook. She must because neither Costia’s name nor relationship to Anya had ever been publicized.

The blankets are starting to warm back up, when the iPad dings. _“And I will pay for the damages. I know I fucked up.”_

“Friend rule: no jail.” I’m not sure why, but I add it to the list without a second thought.

> I wanted things black and white. I wanted there to be limits to keep us both in a situation that would not hurt the other. We really were only able to keep one rule. But the one we kept basically made us able to sit here today. To think about where we started. Even if they didn’t all work. I felt safe. 

Lexa didn’t hesitate, and she answered, _“No jail.”_ Her message came through though, and I wonder if she could change this fast.

I feel my eyes getting heavy. I know I need to get to sleep soon if I am going to be up for work on time. I just don’t want to stop talking to her. I don’t want tomorrow to go back to the way things were. To Lexa waking up thinking she had won me over, and she can go back to being an asshole.

 “I shattered my phone,” I tell her. I let her in. It was small and ridiculous, but I’m upset. I want to whine, and she said she wanted to be my friend. So I open up, “I’m super upset because I just got it, and I feel like this is the birthday that just keeps on giving.”

It takes a moment, but she answers. _“I would prolly vomit. My phone is my baby.”_ Her text is ungrammatical and it should bother me, but the couch version of Lexa is fading into just a woman lying in bed. Just so normal.

Sighing at the thought of having to interchange the screen, I consider the amount I would need to dish out for a replacement. My stomach twisted again, and I tell her, “Yeah, pretty much. Do you have an iPhone?”

“ _No edge 6.”_ I shake my head in disappointment.  _Probably an Apple hater like Murphy._  And as I see my greasey haired older brother, I can’t help but see Lexa like a normal person. I just laugh at myself. I laugh because she is not normal. She is fucking Lexa Trikru.

“Mm no iMessage don’t want your number now.” It typed out so naturally, and I realized that it was probably a little flirty.  _Shit. How can I ask her to have lines when I do stupid shit like this?_

_“Hmm. Fine then.”_

I blink and then a nine digit number is on the screen with just the simple words, “ _That’s me.”_ and a damn happy emoji.

I kick the bed in excitement. Because seriously a super star just gave me her number.  _I can call Lexa Trikru!_ Rexa is up and moving around trying to get the monster under the covers, but it doesn’t matter because I have Lexa Trikru’s phone number.

When my bed dance ends, I type out a snarky remark, “Oh, I thought it was Fred’s number.”

Her messages come in a stream after that, and I only have time to read. I only have time to read because Lexa can type fast. And she is typing so fast that some of the stuff she says is just another reminder. Another reminder of why I have Lexa Trikru’s number.

_“Because really I ignore this Facebook thing and have the notification off.”_

_“You can call me feed if you really wants.”_

_“As long as you say it often and kinda in a breathy tone”_

_“More pleading”_

_“And add a thank you and a please with it.”_ Her comments irk me, because I remember her words. I remember her dictating the vocabulary I would use with her.

 _“Just mix it upon,”_ and then, _“Up.”_ But for some reason, I play along.

“Hmm what else can I call you.” Even though I am playing, I wonder if she knows that what she just said kind of ruined it for me. Like the sexual banter that may be a apart of her everyday world was not enough to make it worth my while.

 _“God”_ I laugh when I see it. I laugh because I should have seen it coming. Because seriously, she would be that conceited.

So I answer, “Sorry that name is taken.”

 _“By”_ she asks faster than I could type out my answer.

“Duh.” Enter. “Me.” Enter.

Blowing on my nails I wipe them on my bare shoulder. It’s a dumb action, and serves no purpose other than to just be. Really I can’t be cool in public, so might as well be more dumb in bed.

_“I can handle that.”_

Then, _“Ok god.”_ I realize that she is asking like this is all normal. Considering if I can do this, I try to go along.

“My favorite is still fuck yeah bitch… but I’m not picky.”

“ _I can call you butch instead.”_

 _I’m not butch. What the fuck? I wonder if she thinks I’s butch._ I start to analyze what category of female style I would fit into. I’m a little slow to recognize that it was a typo. But when I did, I sent her a message just to screw with her. She is still typing though, so when I send “No!!! That’s my uncles name!” Sshe sends, _“But usually its bitch harder.”_

I am laughing at the awkward interaction, as she says, “Auto correct sorry.”

Rexa shifts again, huffing out a breath of disturbingly sharp breath. She lays her heavy head on my chest, and looks at me with unamused eyes. I scratch the silky short hair behind her big floppy ears. Running my finger over the ear, her breaths change from irritation to contentment. “I love you,” I tell her, and she nuzzles into my hand some. I think this means she loves me too.

The iPad dings again, and the banner reads, _“But seriously, can I have your number.”_

I bite my swollen lip again. Chewing on the dried skin, I wonder if I should give it to her. Then I realize I don’t have to.

“No point. Phone broken and won’t we fixed until at least the 15th.”

I must sound pathetic. She’s a superstar and I live paycheck to paycheck. The voice reminding me that I am pitiful is back. Reminding me that I can’t even have a decent car or a working phone.

But she answers, _“Ok. Facebook it is.”_

Sucking in my upper lip and then my lower lip, I feel the irritation at myself growing. Nothing I can do though. I made my choice. I made the choice I wanted. I close my eyes and see the kids’ faces. They make the shit a little bit better.

“Work tomorrow,” I say, and then, “Need sleep.”

I see the screen light up, as start to open the Netflix app. Putting on an episode of this new dystopia show, I settle on to my side. Rexa walks in a circle and tucks in just behind my legs.

The banner shows on the screen. _“Good night, Clarke.”_ And then, “ _Thank you.”_


	8. ~Nothing's that Easy~

**~Lexa~**

I get to see her. I get to see her tonight. I am not sure why I am so excited to see Clarke. I mean I am still not even allowed to really be her friend. I mean what type of person thinks up friend rules.

I have never had rules with friends before. Well… expect the shitting rule. Oh, and the don’t touch me rule. That’s not really a rule though; they all just know that.

The locker room is buzzing, and I can feel the bass pumping into me. The excitement of the other girls is contagious, and I need to get my head in the game, but she is coming.

I got her the same seats. I got her two in case she wants to bring the sister. I’m pulling my hair back into a braid, and I am trying to wipe the smile from my face but she’s coming.

Emori bounces down in a chair across from me. Her legs are bouncing as she shifts the ball back and forth. Her eyes wonder over me, and she shakes her head. “Your princess coming tonight?”

“Shut it,” I tell her. My smile falters for a moment, but no Clarke’s coming so Emori can suck my ass.

She huffs, and Tris flops down in Emori’s lap. The younger girl squeezes Emori’s cheeks together and looks at the older. “Emmi, don’t tease Lexi. The blonde is her good luck charm. I mean look how bad she choked at the last game when she wasn’t there.”

I pick up my shoe and throw it at them both. Fuck them. I mean seriously, I didn’t play that bad and I was sick. Apparently standing outside in a rainstorm does shitty things to a person’s body.

The two are laughing at me, but fuck them. Clarke is coming tonight and she said we could go to Coach’s after. I replay the messages over the last few days. The way each time she seems to open up a little more.

I grab my phone from the bag. It’s ridiculous but I check the messenger app. There was no new message from Clarke, and it sucks. I hoped she would send me something before she left. No such luck though.

I fumble through the bag and pull out the box. I flip it in my hands a few times, and pull it away just out of Tris’s reach as she grabs for it. Holding it back, she tries again, but Emori is holding the forward in her lap with one arm, and the other is holding them both to the chair.

Tris is smiling, and kicking as Emori’s fingers find the danger zone on Tris’s side. The younger girl arches and squirms, begging for a cease-fire. I can’t help but laugh at the girls. They are close, and sometimes I wonder if they would be something more if I hadn’t been the cause of the no-relationship policy that was put in place.

Emori’s mouth is near Tris’s ear, and she says, “Keep your paws off the princess’s present.”

“Okay!” she cries, twisting away from the breath at her neck. “I will be good!” Emori gives the girl’s side a few more pinches before she releases her. Tris falls from her lap onto her ass and glares up. “You are cruel.”

Emori smirks down and I can see the adoration buried there. She leans back in the chair and just says, “You like it.”

Shaking my head, I push up form my seat and grab my duffle. Tossing it into the bottom of my locker, I turn back to my friends. At least I think they may be my friends.

I turn back to them, and bite my lip for a second. I ask, “Hey guys?”

Both heads turn to look at me, and they are all ears. I’m not sure how to ask, so it takes me a moment. Emori is patiently waiting, but Tris lacks some of that control. “Sup, Commander?” she asks.

I spit it out. “So we have these like friend rules-“

“What the fuck is a friend rule?”

Emori asked leaning forward in her chair. She is interested and I realize I must sound fucking stupid. It's a feeling I have been getting use to lately. Apparently spending three months drunk and fucking everything I chose had made me less important than I thought and more of a team joke that they were all hoping would figure it out.

I turn and grab the nearest chair. Taking another seat, and holding the box in both hands. When I look up, I see that Emori is still watching me eagerly.

“She asked for these like rules so she could feel safe around me,” I admit quietly. I didn’t want everyone to know. I am only telling them because they already knew. They were there and they still carrying the shame of standing by.

Tris nods, her face turning more serious. She finds her own chair close by and pulls up. I twist the box, and try again, “So the rules are like common sense shit like no pooping or peeing when the other is in the room, but there are others that are like more serious. I am not allowed to touch her or be alone with her.”

I see Emori’s eyes fall some and then her lower lip tucks briefly between her teeth. She is looks up with just her eyes, and asks, “Are you sure you’re not beating yourself up a little too much. Like she is going to use you and lose you?”

I’ve consider it. I’ve considered that the only thing being friends with me can do for Clarke is… well nothing. She doesn’t want anything to do with me publically.

I shake my head, and answer, “No, I don’t see it. One of the rules is no media mentions. Its like she doesn’t want anyone to know that she knows me.”

“So what’s the problem?” Tris asks.

I hold out the box to them, and explain, “She broke her phone on her birthday. That night after the game. So I got her a new one. I just don’t want to be weird and I don’t want her to think that I am trying to buy her friendship.”

“She’ll probably think you’re trying to buy your way into her pants, Lex,” Emori said honestly. I take a deep breath filling my lungs so completely, because yeah that is exactly what she’ll think. I sigh and toss the box back to my duffle. The box hits the back of the locker and falls down to the still open bag.

“Damn it,” I say. I’m pissed that I made this situation. I made it so this woman can’t even stand to be alone with me.

Emori stands and takes a chance. She places her hand on my arm, and I turn to look at her. She removes it as soon as she has my attention, and says, “Lex, it's the playoffs and we need you here. Not replaying something you can’t change.”

I nod. I understand what she’s saying. Coach some in and I move to the board where she is explaining the game plan. But I’m not listening.

No, I can’t listen. Emori’s words playing over and over again in my head.

Something I can’t change.

Anya getting traded to Dallas, Texas.

Something I can’t change.

My tongue in Costia’s drunk mouth.

Something I can’t change.

Groping Clarke in a bar full of fans.

Something I can’t change.

That I’m the monster in her dreams.

The girls are getting up, and I follow. The weight holding me down is nothing unusual. I try to shake it as the sounds of the fans moving and cheering mix with the heavy bass of the arena music. Its beating into my chest, and I feel the energy as it starts to flow through me with each beat.

Bouncing on my heals, I watch as several of my team mates jog out of the tunnel. I stall for a minute because I’m trying to see the blonde curls. I need to know that she is there and she is trying as hard as I am. There are too many people though. Too many bodies to see if she is there.

I grab a ball from the cart and dribble it out on the cart. I am searching everywhere for her, but she’s not in her seat. Not in the stands anywhere. I feel the excitement dropping. Like a weight in the pit of my stomach.

This is a big fucking game, and she couldn’t even show up. A small part hopes she’s just late. The big part of me feels slighted though. Slighted that she had VIP passes and can’t bother to show up on time or at all.

I’m a fucking professional basketball player. At least a hundred girls in this stadium would kill to have my attention, and she doesn’t even care.

I miss the first shot that I shoot, and its throws me more. I need to get her out of my head because she is going to make me fuck this up. She already cost me one game because she had to get in the fucking way. Because she couldn’t just let me touch her like a normal fucking fan and just be excited.

I mean I didn’t fucking rape her. Yeah, I was a little too handsy with her, but seriously she was into it at first. And now… now she is going to fuck this game up for me.

Five shots and only two sink. I feel the irritation bubbling and brewing in my blood. I miss the sixth and I know its her fault when I look and find the chair still empty.

I shove the ball to the teenager at the cart. The kid caught it but she looked at me confused. I don’t care. She doesn’t matter. Clarke doesn’t matter. Its just me.

Coach calls us over and I take a seat on the bench with my fellow starts. They always call the visiting team first. So we wait, and Coach talks about focus.

When the lights dim Emori is squeezing Tris’ thigh just above her knee. This is their thing, and its starting to piss me off. Piss me off that when I see the bitch that Emori was fucking just a few weeks ago shaking her ass in front of me I consider taking her home and fulfilling that fantasy I’ve been having about her on my dick.

Caris is called first and then the foreigner that I can’t even pronounce her name. At least the MC dude can. Emori is next, then Tris. I’m always last off the bench because I am the star. People come here to see me. 

“AND YOUR NUMBER 3 YOUR STARTING GUARD LEKKKSSAAA TRIKRRUUUU!” The stands are shaking with the screams. At least 4,000 people screaming for me. Screaming my name.

The way Clarke should be.

I feel their chants and cheers reminding me that I am Lexa fucking Trikru. I’m the star and captain of this team. And I’m going to lead them to victory.

The lights come back on, and I see her then. I see her smiling and waving the lame homemade sign. She’s holding it above her head, and she’s jumping up and down screaming in excitement.

> I don’t get why I have to be such and asshole sometimes. I mean you made it, and the game hadn’t even started. I wasn’t even mad at you, but I took it out on you.

I laugh at the sign, not because I feel special. Fuck her. No, it was a dumb sign from a dumb blonde. Yeah, fuck her.

She waves at me but no fuck her. I am not just going to act like she is a big deal. She said it. She doesn’t want to be associated with me. Well, she’s a nobody and I’m a somebody. I don’t wave back. I head to the center of the court and take my spot around the center ring.

The giant from Europe knocks the ball back into my hands. I set up the play and I am running right. Running along the three-point line. I hear her voice saying, “You can do it, Lex! Its all you.”

Damn straight is all me. I am the fucking star. So I don’t pass when I should. Instead I take the shot. I take it to prove that I am more important than she is.

It doesn’t feel that way though. Not when the fucking ball bounces off the rim and into the other team’s hands. With a fast break down the court, they start the game with a 2-0 lead.

~~~~~

We lose.

We lose and its all her fault.

It’s her fault and I’m supposed to take her out now.

Take her out and I’m not allowed to touch her, or be alone with her.

These friend rules are bullshit. I just want to go out. I want to have a drink with Emori and Tris and find someone to fuck.

I pulling on my jeans, and considering what I should do. I could just leave. She wouldn’t even be able to see me go. She’s a nobody that can’t even get back here. If she says something about it I could tell her I tried to tell her that I changed my mind but she broke her fucking phone and can’t be like a normal fucking person and get a new one. I grab my bag, and the present falls to the ground. Tris leans down and picks it up. She holds it out to me, and she smiles. “I think you should give it to her,” she tells me. Her words piss me off and yank the package from her hand.

“No, it was dumb and she wouldn’t want it anyways.”

Her eyes know, and that just makes it worse. Why can’t she just leave me alone? Doesn’t she get that I just need to leave. Find some girl to bang so I don’t have to think about it.

“Blondie’s waiting for you, so where are we going?” Tris asks.

“We?” I ask, and shake my head. “Not going out with her. I’m going out. I want to drink and she said I can’t drink with her.”

Tris is biting her lip, but shaking her head. “No Lex, you’re going out with Clarke and Emori and me, and we are going to have a sober meal.”

I start to argue, but Tris is nodding. She grabs me and leads me out of the locker room. Leading with a grip of a fucking gorilla, until we are just within sight of the blonde still at her seat. My huge bag is hitting shit as we walk, and I realize that I still have the fucking box in my hand. I push it into the bag, because that shit has to be returned tomorrow.

I zip the duffle and look up to see that Emori is leaning on one propped up leg next to Clarke. They are laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Like they could just talk for hours and not notice than anyone else is around.

I clench my jaw, and shoot Tris a dirty look. A look that says I will fuck your face up if you make me take another step. But I see something in her face then. A small fleeting image of sadness as she looks at how comfortable Emori is with Clarke.

I suck in my breath, and I’m not sure where it comes from but I turn the younger girl towards me, and I tell her, “You love her. Its obvious but its never going to work. She or you will get traded and it will all collapse. So find a bitch to fuck and give up on that ever being something.”

Tris looks like she may tear up, so I shake her a little, and say, “Repeat after me. Love is weakness.”

“Love is weakness,” but her voice is so small. I don’t know why I’m doing this. Or if this is for her or for me.

I grip her arms tighter, and say, “No. You need to own it.”

“Love is weakness,” she says a little louder.

I nod, and say it again with her. “Love is weakness.”

I turn us, and we take another look at the two laughing females. I hear Tris mumble, “Love is weakness,” while I take in the blonde. She glances over and when she sees me her eyes are sparkling. Emori’s eyes follow to us, but her excitement is non-existent or masked as her eyes look over Tris.

Clarke is waving then, and her voice carries over the mostly empty arena, “Hiya, Lexa!”

I smile weakly, but then I remember. Yeah, love is weakness, and I’m not fucking weak. No, I’m Lexa fucking Trikru.


	9. Hitting the Ground, Literally.

Coach’s isn’t too crowded and we were able to make it through the autographs after only about fifteen minutes. In the time it took us to pose for photos, Clarke managed to snag us a table. It was farthest from the bar, and honestly may have been the quietest table in the place.

I take the seat across from her, and she barely looks up when I sit down. It’s like I don’t even matter enough for her to greet me. When I turn to see Emori, she is looking over my face. I hate it when she studies me.

She tries to gesture me to open up the conversation, but I don’t. I don’t because I don’t even want to here with her. She made me lose the fucking game. I roll my eyes, only to see the waitress walking up. Her eyes make their way over me, and I smile smugly. Yeah, she wants me.

“Hey ladies, can I get you something to drink?” her eyes are focused on me so I run my tongue over my lips. Not that I would use it on her, but still bitch can dream right?

> I think I hate myself more for this shit than just making you afraid of me to begin with. I mean seriously, I was such a dick and you tried so hard. I’m sorry. I will never be able to say sorry enough, but really thank you. Thank you for standing your ground.

I glance over at Clarke who is watching me and then over at the waitress. I wonder if she is the jealous type. Not that it matters. No, she isn’t worth my time. Not when she fucks with my head and shit.

Emori breaks the silence by ordering. “Just a water for me. Tris you want a water or a coke zero?”

“Coke zero, please,” Tris answers not even looking up. I’m proud of her. Maybe she'll save herself the bullshit that Anya put me through.

Reach over and run a finger over the waitress’ hand and say, “Can I get a beer, honey?”

I don't’ look at Clarke. I don’t look because I don’t care what she thinks. They made me come out so I am ordering what I want. “What kind?” the girl asks, not moving from my touch. Yeah, she wants me.

She bites her lip, and I look at her heavy bust threatening to tear out of her shirt. I glance at the tag, and say, “Your favorite… Callie.”

Clarke cleared her throat then, and the waitress looked at the blonde. Her eyes studied her and then glanced around the table. I know she is calculating how the short blonde fits with the table of ball players.

“Uh… can I please have an ice tea?”

The waitress nods, barely acknowledging the request. Turning back to me, she places her hand on my shoulder and I nearly reach over to knock it off. But I just relax back into the chair because she is just claiming me. She must be threatened by Clarke. I laugh because Clarke is nothing to me. She says, “I’ll be right back with your beer and the other drinks.”

“Thanks, babe,” I answer. But I feel Emori’s eyes burning into my skull. I watch as the girl turns and I take some time to admire her backside. Emori kicks me though, and I shoot up in my seat some. “What the fuck, Em?”

Emori nods her head to Clarke. Turning my attention back to where Clarke’s face is focused downward at the menu. She looks at me again though and gestures to Clarke, but I just sigh.

“So, Clarke what did you think of the game?” I ask. Tell me that you know you fucked me over. Why couldn’t you just be on time?

The blue eyes glanced up, and she answers politely, “Well at least y’all get to play another home game.” She sets the menu down and she is looking at me. Her eyes have lost their sparkle and I swallow, running my tongue over the inside of my cheeks.

I sit up and say, “Yeah, the fans are always better at home.”

I glance over at Tris and see that she too is sitting there with a vacant expression. She is trying to pretend like she is reading the menu but I can tell she isn’t. Her eyes aren’t moving, just staring at it blankly.

Callie returned then with our drinks. She set them on the table and I lean back to give her room to lean over the table. Her tits practically in my lap as she places Emori’s water down.

She places the beer bottle in my hand, and holds it for just a moment longer than necessary. Yeah, she wants me.

“Can you give us a minute?” Emori requests. Callie takes another look at me but she turns away.

I shrug and move to put the bottle to my mouth, but Tris’s hand is on mine. Its pushing it back to the table. Stopping me from taking the first drink.

I look over at her, and realize she is no longer staring at the menu. Her gaze is locked on mine, and her eyes a sharpness I have never seen from her before. I look at her and lean back again. I am far enough away that she can’t stop me.

I get the drink to my lips and take a sip. The bubbly harshness floods my senses, and I swallow the first sip. I look over to see Clarke looking away from the table and she is clearly looking for something.

Emori is shaking her head, and Tris just glares at me. Her face is flushing, and for a second I wonder if I am being a dick.

Ha! That’s funny. Clarke’s the dick that made me lose, so fuck her. I don’t have to play by her friend rules. I look at Tris and take another drink. Her jaw clenches and can see the flush rising in her cheeks.

Clarke’s chair moving pulls my attention from antagonizing the younger girl. She is up and she is moving from the table. Her voice is a little broken, and she is mostly mumbling. “I’m sorry but I just remembered that I have to get home. Um Rex- my dog needs to be fed. I forgot to feed her before I left.”

She is pulling something out of her pocket. Its just a couple bucks that land on the table. “That should over the drink. Thanks… for the invite.”

No one can say anything as she leaves the table and is almost to the door. For someone so small she could move quickly. I am watching her go. Pulling the black sweat shirt over the jersey. My jersey. She wore my jersey.

Emori is up then, swearing loudly, “You’re a fucking dick.” Her eyes could potentially murder me as she points to the door. “That girl cheered for you harder than anyone tonight. She had to hitch a ride to the fucking train to get here, and you just treated her like shit. And why, because she didn’t stroke your ego enough tonight.”

I roll my eyes. Nothing Em can say is going to change my mind about losing being Clarke’s fault. “Shut up, Em. She’s just a dumb blonde that’s not worth my time.”

I don’t know which part of what I said pushed Tris, but she was even angrier than Emori who had left us at ‘dumb blonde’ and followed after Clarke.

Her words were venom, as she hissed at me. “You are a fucking joke and worth none of our time. You knew what you were doing and you just kept at it. Just like last time.”

Just like last time echoed. It echoed throughout me, bouncing from one corner of the emptiness back to the other side. Just like last time, when she did everything right and I just didn’t care. I just didn’t care to listen to her. To be a fucking human.

“Your love is weakness mantra is bullshit, you know that?” She says. She is holding her glass so hard I worry for a second that she may shatter it. “You spit this bullshit but since you decided to be above love, Lex. You have been a fucking monster. Someone had to pull you off that girl, and from the viral videos not once but twice.”

I should see it coming but I don’t because I am so focused on the spittals flying from her mouth that I miss the coke coming up in my face. It douses the complete front of me. I jump back, the chair leaning back and falling.

I fall with the chair backwards, and I crash to the floor. Literally crash from the idiocy of everything I am.

“Anya would be disgusted by you,” she says, and she too is up. “You fuck her sister and that's not enough. No, you actively choose to destroy everything good in your life.

She grabs her jacket and purse from the back of her chair, as she keeps up her lashing, “You not only want to ruin your life, but everyone around you. Losing Anya wasn’t enough. You have to ruin Costia, who is still in jail for assault. You ruined Clarke’s trust.”

She doesn’t turn when she throws the last dagger. Lodging in the last cut to drain the wickedness that is poisoning my being. “And you tried to ruin me. But I’m better than you, Lexa. I am fucking better than you will ever be.”

Tris walks away with that. Walks away as the quiet sports slowly begins to rise in volume. Eyes everywhere looking at me pull myself up from the ground. I really want to just fall into the ground. Die right there, especially when I see the phone cameras all angled at me.

“Fuck,” I mutter, but Callie is there after a moment to help me up. Her hands helping me back to my feet. I look her over, and I can tell she is trying to make something out of what she just heard.

I pull some cash from my pocket, and push it into her hand. “That should take care of it,” I say and start to leave. I start to leave but her hand is on me again, and this time I’m pissed. “Get your fucking hand off me. Don’t you get it. I’m a fucking monster that doesn’t even care who you are. I’ll forget you by tomorrow even if I fuck you tonight.”

Her hand collapses against my cheek then. The burning spreading over my already flushed cheeks. I feel it. I feel the pain that I so deserve. But it's the wrong hand. It's the wrong hand that’s hitting me.

Because it should be Clarke. Clarke had every right to hit me, and all she did was forgive me. Forgive me and try to be my friend.

I press my hand to my cheek, and rub a little. Feeling the pain deeper. Letting it fill the void within. I look at the angry waitress, and she is about to speak but all I say is, “Thank you. I deserved that.”

I turn then and I push through the closest door. It's a door to the small fenced in patio. I’m tall though, so I just hop the rail. I get stuck for a minute, my sweat shirt pocket is hooked on the small protrusion from above the railing. I move to walk but get pulled back. It’s the story of my life. I try to move forward and something is always there to pull me back.

I grab at the fabric and tug. It doesn’t come loose though. I do what any irrational person in a fit of rage dose. I pull harder, but it doesn’t give the way it should. No, instead I hear the material’s stitches pop, and then the sickening tear.

I look down and see the faded Phoenix Mercury sweat shirt with a now gapping hole near the bottom. The fabric hung, no longer clinging around my hips. I play with the tear, and close my eyes. I close them and fight back the tears.

It’s just a sweat shirt.

It’s just a fucking sweat shirt.

It’s just a god damn, fucking sweat shirt.

No, this was Anya’s sweatshirt. The only she left after the photos came went viral along with the videos. The moment that I ruined my marriage. The moment I ruined my marriage because I was angry at her for leaving. So I decided to her hurt. I decided to hurt her as close to home as possible.

* * *

 

_~Two Months, Three Weeks, Five Days, Nineteen Hours, and Sixteen Minutes Ago~_

_Echo’s bar was filled. We had won, even though I barely played. I couldn’t hit a shot. I hadn’t hit many since the trade was announced. No, she had promised forever, and then moved to Chicago. She had promised me a life of happiness and left me for her career._

_Costia had shown up dressed to go out. She said Anya had told her to take me out and remind me that I’m not dead. It was something that Anya would say, and so I went. The women in the bar were all smiling and waving at me. I took a few photos with the girls dressed in their orange and purple._

_Costia got us the beers, and she pushed one into my hand. I didn’t need another drink, because I have been buzzed since I got home. But I drank it, because she told me too._

_My vision was a little blurry, and as I drank, I could see the way that Cos resembled Anya. They were only half sisters, but they had the same bone structure. They had the same eyes. And if I squinted hard enough, it was like Anya was the one pressed against me on the floor._

_I lean in and smell her. It’s not the right conditioner, but their hair is the same. Costia’s is darker, but if I close my eyes she dances similar. And that’s all it takes. All it takes for me to make the first of a stretch of bad choices. Just focus on how she is similar._

_How she is close and she is there with me._

_How she is pressed against me, whispering to me._

_How she is telling me how special I am. That I am a star._

_How she is reminding me that I’m unique. I am Lexa fucking Trikru._

_How she is temptation and present, and telling me that I shoulda chose her._

_That's all it takes for a marriage to collapse. For me to dive into a bottle and swim in the aftereffects. To let the beat pulse through me as I pull her closer, tilt her head. Tilt is just enough to meet her slopping kiss. The kiss that would ruin me._

_But I blame Anya._

_Blame Anya for leaving._

_For leaving me here._

_Me here with Costia._

_With Costia to kiss._

_To kiss in public._

_In public with cameras._

_With cameras capturing me._

_Capturing me willingly cheat._

_Willingly cheat on Anya._

_On Anya for leaving._

_For leaving me alone._

_Me alone. Me alone._

* * *

 

The tears start to fall as I walk through the empty dark streets. Towards the parking garage where my baby is parked. They are hitting the concrete drop after dropp off my chin.

I hear the voices in the garage. I am wlaking up the ramp, wallowing in my self-made bubble of isolation. But my bubble isn’t sound proof, and the voices are getting louder the closer I am getting to the level where we all park our cars.

I see Tris first standing a few feet out from the car. A few feet beyond her, I can see Emori against her Cadillac escalade. A blonde head tucked into Em’s chest. Clarke was letting Emori hug her. Of course, Emori could hug her. She’s only scared of you, you fucking monster.

“She’s being a dick because I burst her bubble,” I can hear flowing off the concrete. I can hear Emori explaining to Clarke why I am such an asshole.

Tris isn’t saying anything. Apparently she said it all to me back in front of everyone. But she was there to support Clarke. She had tried to in the restaurant. Tried to keep me from crashing and burning.

I realize that they were trying to be my friends. Something I had sworn off when I became a big star. But they had been there. Been there the whole time, and were now doing what I should have done.

They were apologizing for me, shouldering the blame just like they did with the bar. I had pulled them into my cyclical cone of destruction making my way through their lives and Clarke’s.

More tears are gathering then. They are over flowing as guilt and sorrow spill from a source that seems never ending. My breath is catching and I hold the concrete post to support myself.

I’m choking for air. The flood on my face seems to be blocking my throat, but then there are arms around me. Arms with six freckles on the back of one hand, in the shape of the little dippers. Arms that are too small for a ball player. And they are wrapped around me as my heart beats trying to break from the barricade that I built with titles and booze and women’s orgasms. It fights like it wants to be free from within me. Leave me just like Anya did.

I can’t stop them falling. And I don’t want to. I don’t want to stop the pain from filling me to the brim and overflowing because at least then its something. Its something besides the combustion of spider webs that free ghosts of the past in continuous reminders to echo through my empty soul that I am not important and I am ruin things. And I realize. I realize that its painful because its not just a sweat shirt, just like Clarke is not just a girl.

“I’m going to do better,” is all I can say. And even then I’m not sure if it comes out. Her shirt is covered in my tears and eye liner and something clear and sticky... and Jesus fucking Christ I wiped snot on her sweatshirt.

She holds my head and lets me touch her. She holds me, and says, “You better, because I may not be Clarke fucking Griffin, but I deserve better from Lexa fucking Trikru.”

I choke and I want to laugh but it launches out spit and more mocks. I want her to know. I need her to know. So I say, “I’m just Lexa… just Lexa.”


	10. Dicks and Dilduses

**~Clarke~**

It took some time to get Lexa into the back of Emori’s car. Lexa kept insisting that she could drive herself, but Emori told her she wanted to make sure she got home without stopping someplace to get drunk. Lexa looked even more defeated that everyone thought so low of her, but she deserves it.

I mean I want to believe her. The problem is that I have seen this act before. Octavia pulled stuff like this, and both Raven and I were not innocent in our own personal paths to self destruction. But we were kids. Lexa is an adult, and I am through with her bullshit. I’m through with the games, and the waves of highs and lows that I get from her.

I don’t need this, and yet I keep offering myself up as her personal whipping girl. Having a bad day? Feeling like being a dick? Well, hey I’m here, so please take your cryptic shit out on me. And when she’s done, I fucking pet her ego and let her back in. _What is wrong with me?_

I shake my head, and point to the Escalade. “Get in the back seat.” Lexa looks at me and she opens her mouth, but I shake my head and harden my eyes. “Noowww.” I take my time with the word as my jaw tightens. My other hand has found my hip, and I know I am using my pissed off "teacher/mom" voice, but her eyes are somewhat schooled and she ducks her head.

She shifts her weight and she starts to take a step, but pauses. Running the sleeve of her sweatshirt under her nose, she sniffs before looking up. “I won’t-“

“I said now.”

She doesn’t utter another word. Just takes the seven steps to the car, opens the door, and crawls into the back seat. I can see that she laid down, because her profile disappears from the darkly tinted windows.

I turn to Emori, to say goodnight. “Thanks for taking care of her,” I offer, before turning to head towards the ramp that will take me down to the street. 

“You too,” she says and her hand is pointing at the car. I immediately hold up my hands and shake my head.

“It’s okay,” I say. Everything about her posture tells me she doesn’t care, but the eye roll is the most condescending part. I feel myself getting defensive, and I start to argue, “Look there’s another train in ten minutes, and then Raven already knows she needs to pick me up.”

Tris moves, only two steps but its a move. She makes it so she is standing in my way so I can’t leave easily. I recognize her stance as a mimic of exactly how I got Lexa to do what I told her. “Get in the back seat,” she says, and even as the audacity to point to the damn car.

I laugh though. The girl is just not intimidating. “Sorry, honey, but you are clearly not a teacher or a mom, and have yet to master the voice.”

But her face hardened, and she shifted her weight to point harder. “NOW!”

I jump a little. I mean her tone wasn’t scary, no it was the shear volume that made me consider turning from them and crawling into a ball in the backseat. Lexa was there though. Lexa was there, and I lived in the middle of nowhere.

Emori is softer than the angry younger woman, but it was clear they aren’t going to let me leave. “Blondie, we have already witnessed you almost getting brutalized and we are not about to let you take the train in the middle of the night to the last stop only so you can wait from your friend to come get you.” She gestures between Teacher Tris and herself. “Just let us make sure you get home okay.”

I am thinking it over when she says, “Please.”

I nod silently, letting out only a frustrated huff at being incapable of being enough of an adult to own a working car and a phone not being held together by packing tape. Taking it out of my pocket, though I manage through the complicated dance that I learned allows the damn thing to unlock. I am considering how to massage it enough to let me to send Raven a text, when Emori is flashing her phone in my face.

“I played 32 minutes tonight. I don’t have time for you to spend the next twenty while you try to deal with that tragic mess.” Tris is stifling a laugh, and I feel even smaller than I usually do, not to mention that they already tower of me, and I am like child size.

Taking her phone, I type in the only phone number I have memorized thanks to the digital age. Tris is pushing me towards the car while I text Raven and hit send. She opens the front passenger’s side door. Looking at her, I give her my best what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you face, and argue, “I am like a midget. There is no reason for you to sit in the back.”

“Lexa,” she says, and I think about it. Lexa is sprawled out in the back seat. Tris is giving me an out. I should take it. I really should just get the fuck home and block her ass from everything. I mean she doesn’t have my number and she wouldn’t risk the restraining order that Marcus would slap her with if she showed up on campus again.

I look at the front seat, and see where Emori is already getting comfortable in the driver's seat and turning over the ignition. Its almost too easy. _Why can’t my POS work that well?_

Studying Tris's slumped posture I can tell she is tired and sore too, so I shake my head again. “You take the front. She is in non-dick mode at least for a few minutes.” Turning to Emori, I ask, “Can we take her home first? And you like not tell her where I live later?”

Biting her lip, Emori nods, but Lexa calls from the back seat, “I’m not a fucking stalker, and I can hear you.”

_Of course she heard me._

I move around Tris, and I pull open the door harder than I normally would. Lexa’s head rolls some from the edge of the seat and her eyes pop open. She is looking at me, so I smile fakely and say, “Since you can hear me: move over.”

I don’t wait for her to move as I start to crawl in. In fact, I am not even sure how I manage not to crush her head under my ass. But she managed to pull up only enough before I sat. She lost her balance, and of course the universe mocks me just a little more, because Lexa’s face manages to fall downward and her chin impales my thigh.

“Damn it, Lexa!” I cry out. I follow the cry with another low blow, “Are you incapable of not hurting me whenever you are in the same vicinity of me?”

Lexa, true to her bitchy form, retorts, “You bring out the best in me, Clarke fucking Griffin.”

I harden my eyes down at her, and consider how Lexa’s face would look with a black eye. I mean no one could really blame me. It would be simple. Just a slight slip of my elbow. Emori takes a sharp turn, and _bam!_ Lexa can walk around with my mark for a week. Sweet justice.

But we are moving before I can really think the action through. Lexa is still trying to get up, but the Escalade takes a speed bump and Lexa’s chin hits me again. _Damn it!_ I grip Lexa’s face downward and just hold her face into my stomach. Hissing in pain I say, “Just don’t fucking move.” And she doesn’t.

No, Lexa holds so still that I am almost forget that I am cradling her head in my lap. I lean back as we take the circular down ramp, and fight away the nausea. _I should have sat in the front seat._ With my eyes closed, I try to pretend that I am anywhere else. 

Never in my life did I think I would be doing this. The music in the car is low but the bass still beats throughout the silence. I’m grateful for Emori’s skill behind the wheel. She and Raven would probably get along well by the looks of the interior. I think the words decked out would work but I haven’t heard the kids say that in awhile, so maybe I should go with just cool. _It's a cool car._

Lexa’s head resting in my lap is almost too much when we hit the street. She’s acting like she may be asleep, but I know we have been in the car all of a few minutes and she is not _that_ tired. There are so many things I know I should do right now, but for some reason I decide on the least plausible. I take advantage of her not being a dick for these moments and just hold on to the Facebook messenger Lexa. I do that by first touching the bouncy soft curls.

I am lost momentarily in the feel of how delicate she is like this. The soft expression on her face as it lays partially buried in my stomach. I wonder if she can breathe, but she looks so calm I don’t want to chance it. Nor do I want to chance her smart ass remark I am sure will come. Some sexual innuendo that seems to coat every word she allows to leave her lips or fingers.

“Do you have weird teacher stories?” Emori asks, and my eyes wander  to see her watching me in the rearview mirror. I take my hand out of Lexa’s hair and rest it on her shoulder. There is not really anything else to do since she is completely in my bubble, besides push her away. I want this Lexa though. I want her to know that this is the person that gets my attention.  _Like training a puppy or a thrown away teen. Positive reinforcement._

I shrug remembering that Emori had asked me a question. I consider how I could answer but go with, “Eh… I mean probably not as exciting as traveling around playing ball.” I see Bethany Home Rd approaching. I am not sure where Lexa lives, but being in the car with Lexa is becoming too much because I find my fingers dancing light feather touches over her back without even realizing that I am touching her. Not to mention, apparently, we are close to my house.

I point to the driver’s side, and add, “You want to turn that way when you get to the light. Just drop me off first. since apparently I live closer than I originally thought”

Tris snorts, and Emori says, “You seriously realize that I can’t see when you point. Right?”

I bite my lip. I know I’m horrible at directions, but I don't want to tell her why. It's just like everything else that is me: not normal. Not the way its supposed to be. I'm not sure why I tell her. I like to think it just falls out, but either way I confess, “I’m dyslexic.”

They don’t say anything, but Tris stops laughing immediately and I wonder if these two get me. LIke the me that wants to be confident but fails so stays in my bubble of safety. My bubble that is currently occupied. I shae my head and try to offer a solution, “Uh.. I can’t tell left from right. So… can we go with your way or her way?”

Emori’s mouth twitches into a smile, and she nods, so I instruct, “Your side. Turn that way.”

“Okay,” she answers. There is a momentary pause, before she asks, “Is she asleep?” I shake my head silently. I want to be cryptic for a change. I want to be the one that makes her wonder fro a change. She let's out a soft sigh, and I fight my urge to laugh at how unbelievably fake she is being.

We sit in silence again, the music rolling as the wheels move over the road. Its not uncomfortable, but its still silence and I get enough of that at home. I mean Rexa barks sometimes, but it’s always just me. Just me far enough away to pretend I'm independent, but close enough to feel the rejection of every missed holiday. I take a deep breath, pushing my non-flat stomach into Lexa’s face and start to tell them about this one time in journalism.

“I teach this one class, its called Academic Journalism. We put out the school newspaper and yearbook,” I start with. Its really the best story I have that is easy to explain. I hope they find it funny; otherwise I'm going to look like an idiot. “So… last year I had a kid that wanted to write this story on stupid laws.” I look down at Lexa and notice that her breath has changed, like she is kind of holding it. 

"What happened?” Emori asks. She isn’t looking at me this time; she’s looking at Tris.

I laugh at the memory. Its just a soft chuckle but its enough to rattle Lexa’s head. Her eyes scrunch closed and I know she is trying not to open her eyes.

“We were in class and she is looking up at these laws throughout the U.S., and one confused her… so she asks me, ‘What’s a dildus?’” Laughing as I try to explain further, I can't help but remember the way Rylee’s face had looked at me with such confusion. “The problem was I wasn’t really awake yet, and I hadn’t finished my coffee so I was just like what?”

Tris is already giggling, and I start talking with my hands because they clearly can’t see me; however, I feel the need to imitate my confusion with a little extra animation, “She repeats her question and then spells it for me. D-i-l-d-o-s.”

Emori snorts, but I keep telling them. They are enjoying it, so my voice is louder and more confident. It's like Im in the room with my kids and I know, _I got this_.

“I slapped my hands over my mouth, because I didn’t want to laugh but I was like dying inside. I can barely get out, ‘Ask you parents.’ But Rylee is a shit and she just says she’ll Google it.”

Lexa’s chest lurches and I know she’s stifling her laughter. Its cute and I don’t know why but my hand is back in her hair. I am rubbing my fingers against her scalp and I feel her head lean back into my hand. I find myself wanting her to look up at me and partake in my momentary confidence. But she leans into my hand and sighs. I realize what I'm doing, and immediately pull back.

 _Shit. You can’t just do that,_ I chastise myself.

It takes me a moment and her eyes are open now. Just the way I wanted them before. I should make her move. I should retreat, but I continue. I continue telling my story with the same level of energy because this is my moment.

“I see when she figures it out,” I continue. “I mean her face was so red and all of a sudden she yells out ‘It’s a fake dick! They outlawed fake dicks!’ And she is like so proud yet embarrassed.”

The two in the front seat are cracking up, and momentarily I feel like I am on their level. Tris is still laughing, when she says, “Remember the time Lexa got stopped at the security check because of the-“ but her mouth is covered by Lexa’s hand. The woman seriously lunges off my lap and manages to cover the younger girl’s mouth before she could finish. But she didn’t need too.

Emori and I were laughing, and we laugh harder when Lexa is crying out and pulling her hand back to her chest protectively. She pouts as she says, “You bit me.”

Tris doesn’t acknowledge it though. Instead she finished her sentence, “she had a giant fucking dick and strap in her bag. Like HUGE! Like porn star status.” Her hands are up in the shape of an o about the sixe of a baseball, and I look over at Lexa with one eyebrow raised, because if Tris is telling the truth that is one huge slong and I am not sure where Lexa would put it.

I watch as the color fades from her face, and she stutters, “It… I didn’t… don’t… Anya’s joke... not mine.”

Emori must have been playing with the radio, because she turns up the volume and cries out, “LEXA LIKES BIG DICKS AND SHE CANNOT LIE.”

Tris joins her, and together, “You other brothers can’t deny when a girl walks in with a little bity waist and a round thing in your face, Lexa gets sprung. She wants them to fuck her. With her big old dick!” They change the words and they fumble not sure what the next one is going to say, or even staying with the beat. The remind me of Raven and Murphy, and I wonder if Lexa sees them as family. Or if I am the only one that knows family is something different. Something undefinable by societal construction of normality. It doesn’t matter though, because Lexa is effectively humiliated and tucked into the best configuration of a human ball that a professional basketball player is capable, which is hard, I mean the girl is 5'10" and that is short for being a pro ball player. 

The two in the front don’t stop singing, but the words return to the normal song, and they work in unison. I see the way that Emori looks over at Tris who is moving in her seat with the beat. She's chair dancing without a care, and Emori looks infatuated. I wonder if they are something more, but it’s not my place to ask so i keep my mouth shut.

They sing the remainder of the song, while Lexa holds herself. I wonder if this was Lexa pre-Anya leaving, or if this was the broken person that I caught crashing in the parking garage, or if this is just a new rendition of who Lexa is becoming. 

The song changes and it is no less jarring as a woman calls out for someone to fuck her. I laugh, as I see Lexa’s head thrown back against the seat, and hear the groan escape from her lips. Her embarrassment is too much to not enjoy, but I try to behave some. Emori and Tris are clearly punishing her enough, so I reach over and rest my hand on her arm. Her eyes look at me and I see so much there. The asshole at the table vanished once more, and instead Lexa the girl was sitting beside me.

I tell her, “Its funny, but I think TSA see dicks all the time and makes it a point to embarrass people.”

Lexa nods, and then says to me, “I don’t own a giant dick.” After a pause and a subtle smile, she adds, “They are all average sizes and girths," and her eyebrows raise when she adds, "and in multiple colors.”

“Good to know,” I huff out with a shakey laugh. But I tease her a little, “I mean you must not need one too big since you seem to manage to embody one quite quickly and often.”

Lexa face flushes and pales almost immediately, and I wonder if she understood I was teasing her. I wonder if she has learned anything about me from our weeks of messaging, but the way her eyes are looking away from me, I know. I know we still don’t know how to be people.

That’s the wonders of screens in our faces. We get to hide our fear and pain from snarky comments behind the touch glass. She can't hide her concern, pain, frustrations, or fear. Just as I can't hide that I want make her feel better, that I want to help her know she can be awesome and not an asshole, that I want her even though she pushed me.

I pull my busted phone from my pocket. The packing tape has held the screen together a little at least, but it still sucks to use. I carefully slide the screen open, and maneuver my finger in the special dance to get it to open the photos. It takes longer than it should. I’m stuck between the one that says “It's a joke not a dick, don’t take it too hard.” And “Shut up. I wear heels bigger than you dick.” I’m not sure how she’ll take this so I choose the first one. It takes some more special maneuvering but I get the image open.

Handing my phone to Lexa, I see her swallow uncertainly. I sweat she acts like she is taking a grenade from my hand, but she takes it and looks over the photo first. examining the damage.

I just wanted to give her a joke, and now its liek ridiculous. I tell her, "If the screen locks, then youc an cut your own finger open trying to unlock it."

Her face flushes, and she reads the image. I can tell she is trying to decide if what she is about to say is too much. I roll my eyes, and reach over for the phone.

So quietly, I am not even postive she says it, but its there. Hovering in the air of the backseat as we pass by the last housing tracks and head into the darkened future. "I actually like it hard."

There was just a touch of humor, behind the quiet confession. I suck in my lips to hide my smile. I know I should still be mad at her, but its so hard. Hard. HA! I mean Lexa fucking Trikru, the I-can-bang-who-ever-I-want just confessed to wanting it hard. I may die. I may die because I want to made at her but at the same time I want to show her that I may seem weak but I would easily top her. 

I cover my mouth because I snort, and I see Emori’s eyes flash back and check on us in the back seat. Taking my phone back from her, and I fight with the angry device. I laugh before handing the phone back to her.  She takes it more eagerly this time.

“A big dick doesn’t mean anything if it’s attached to a bigger dick,” she reads quietly. I laugh again, unable to control my amusement at the fact that I have so many dick quotes in my phone.

Her smile catches my breath, as she hands the phone back to me. Nodding she says, “Yeah, I deserve that.”

“What are you two doing back there?” Emori interrupts our moment, and I look down to cover my red cheeks. I am not sure how to tell her what were doing. I am not sure what is going on. I should be mad at her. I should be furious and I am just letting her get comfortable again.

Lexa saves me from answering. She confesses, pulling more laughter from the front seat. “She told me I am a dick, making my actual dick small because my personality absorbed most of my length.” Hearing the explanation from Lexa’s lips made it that much more amusing to me. I don’t know why but I can’t help but laugh with the girls up front. “Yep, laugh it up you three,” she says waving at us, so we do. We laugh as Lexa stretches her extremely long legs.

“You all can suck my dick,” Lexa says, jutting out a lower lip. It’s literally the most adorable thing I have ever seen. I pinch myself.

_No. You can’t just be okay._

_This is what she wants. Y_

_ou drop your guard and she just pisses all over you again._

_Snap on your big girl panties and stop being such a push over._

Lost in thought, I almost miss Tris's replay. Her voice is so subtle, but the way Emori  suddenly swerved into the wrong lane, I must have heard correctly. Unless we all heard wrong, but I swear that girl just said, “There’s only one dick for me and it ain’t yours, Lex.” And she is definitely looking at Emori… and fuck Emori needs to pay attention to the road.

A car next to us is honking so I shut my eyes. I shut them and grab for something to hold on to as we die. We are going to die because Tris wants to ride Emori’s dick. Like what sort of twisted fairy tale is this.

_Oh my god! I’m in a Grimm fairy tale. I’m in one of those nightmare fantasies used as warnings for children not to be well me. Damn it. Damn you Lexa. This is all your fault. You couldn’t just be nice and I am going to die because you had to be a dick._

> The thing is Emori managed to correct the car without hitting anything. Just swerving a little back and forth. She may have been playing around and I didn’t notice, because I was cursing Lexa out under my breath as I held her in a death grip. My left hand clutching her tit like it was going to save me in a roll over. And because I was so close to her, she naturally heard every damn word.

“Tell me how you really feel, Klark,” she says to me, and damn it she says my name that way that makes me want to forget her being so mean to me. I mean I made her a sign like a stupid fangirl.  _Sometimes you're such an idiot._

I look up at her, and say, “You want the truth, you can’t handle to truth.” It was stupid, but it’s the best I got.

I can hear her smile when she asks me, “Are you always this rough?” _Shit!_ I’m still holding her breast, and she is just holding still letting me. Like she is perfectly content letting me handle her in such a way. But the images of Lexa begging for harder and moaning under a rouch touch... it's just...

Too much.

I pull quickly.

Swift, carefully,

It’s removed fast.

Because it was nice.

Provoked by the presence.

The hardened nerve, pert.

Enjoying my coarse touch.

So I pull back, quick.

Struggling to focus.

I try to think clear.

Reprimand again.

This is not right.

I fight back.

I’m pulled back to reality though, because the road is dark and we are running out of lights. Emori is swearing, “Where the fuck do you live?”

I snicker when I make it to my own side of backseat. _I warned them I lived in the middle of no where._ Pointing again, I say, "Follow the road until it runs out. Then turn your way. My place is the only one on the right. Its like a tiny house in the middle of huge fields."

Lexa’s brows are scrunched and she asks, “You own a farm?” This makes me laugh. I mean I can’t have a working car or phone and she thinks I own a farm. She must have lived a privileged life.

“No, I rent a small place on a farm,” I explain. I choose not to point out the ridiculousness of her comment.

I see the road ending, and sit back as Emori turns. I process that Lexa now knows where I live. Lexa knows where I live, and now there is no running away from her. Because if I learned one though about the basketball player, it was that she is persistent.

It only takes five more minutes and she is pulling into the circle gravel driveway. She parks in front of my door and shuts off the engine. She turns back at me with a smile, and says, “I have to pee.”

Rexa's barking her welcome home call. Its the best part of coming home is the excitement that the dog has for me. Tris’s eyes light up as she is getting out of the car. “You have a puppy?”

I look at Lexa, and she hangs her head. I have no idea what is going on inside her, but I wish I did. She tells me, “I’ll wait here.”

Emori looks me over, and then she is getting out of the car. I look at Tris who is jumping outside of the door like a little kid. Turning back to Lexa, I say, “You might as well come if Tris is going to smother Rexa with attention. She’s never going to let your friend leave.”

Lexa’s head darts up and she smiles. “Your dog is named Rexa?”

I laugh, and push her. It was almost normal. I mean as normal as I could ever be with Lexa. Yeah, because we are just this. She needs me and I can be there for her. Yeah, that’s it.

I get out of the car. Calling over to my shoulder, I say, “I use to have this thing for this basketball player and I though it was cute.”

Lexa is out of the car, and next to Tris faster than I can walk to the door. Tris bounces on the balls of her feet. “I want to see the puppy,” she begs.

“She’s not a puppy and she is huge and she is not trained well so if you like your clothes unmarred and not covered in giant paw prints then you may want to give her some space for a few minutes to calm down.

I insert the key into the door. As I am about to turn it, I look back at the three women behind me. This is it I guess. The moment they realize who I am. I’m not sure why I’m so nervous. But the idea of showing them how, I don’t know, beneath them I am, is turning me into a complete mess.

“My bladder is going to explode,” Emori claims, but I notice she is not doing the pee dance.

I turn back to the door, and Rexa’s deep bark is resounding through the wood. I tell her, “Okay, girl. I hear you.”

I twist the key, and turn the nob. Rexa is out the door and hugging me in her huge dog arms before I can even open the door all the way.

“It’s a dog!” Tris squeals like she has never seen one before. Rexa notices the woman, and she drops from me. Approaching the strangers with more caution than she ever uses with me or Raven, she sniffs them out. Tris holds out her hand and Rexa licks it. Tris’s smile grows, and she gives the dog her other hand.

I laugh but then realize that everyone is waiting to go inside. I bite my lip, and push the door open to reveal the partially lit house, thanks to Rexa’s night light. Holding out my hand, I say, “Welcome to my house.”

 


	11. Betting on a Kiss

**~Lexa~**

I’m not sure what I really expected from Clarke’s house. All I know is I wanted to examine everything because I wanted to figure her out. Find a way to understand how one moment she fears me and the next hold me. I want to understand how I could possibly have her hands run through my hair like I matter, and be called a dick repeatedly in the following sentence. She as confusing to say the least.

 The small living room was the first room we enter. There is only a soft light to cast shadows within the room. I can make out a well-worn dark fabric couch, against the only window in the room, and another large arm chair. The wall behind the door looked to be lined with bookcases. For a second I think about the sleek modern décor of my own house. Empty of a single book. I wonder what Clarke would think of my bookless house. Would she think I’m dumb because I don’t have any books in my house?

Clarke flips on a small table lamp when we are all within the house. It’s only a single light but the room comes to life. I’m met with colors of mismatched chaos.

The bright green fabric couch, well worn and tattered edges. Cushions that scream over use. I can tell she sits on the left side most often by the butt imprint that is worn into the seat. It makes me smile because she clearly has a system in place.

I look to the bookcases. The rainbow of spines fills every shelf, and if I’m not mistaken some are blocking a whole other row behind them.

I can’t tell if there is any order to the books, but the major thing I focus on is the small sticker on each of the books. They look like tiny price tags, but there is nothing written on them. I reach out and touch the spine of a Harry Potter book. The set was one of the few hardback covers on the shelf and all were worn on the edges and a small purple sticker fixed at the bottom edge.

Looking over, I see that Clarke is watching me. Her blue eyes studying my every move. I give her more time to watch me as I continue down the shelves reading titles of the most worn and noticing that those each had a purple tag as well. Red tags were the least worn, but every book on shelf either was either purchased used or read multiple times. As I pass by each shelf I take in the random knickknacks. Things that Anya would have called tacky and never allowed into the house.

I stop at the small plastic trophy. There’s no label on it. Just a piece of memory. A piece of Clarke. I point to it and look back at Clarke. She’s not looking at me though. She is pointing down the short dark hallway and telling Emori, “Just down there.”

I look down to see Tris sprawled on the floor with the giant pit-bull laying across her chest, smoothering the girl’s face in drool. I grimace at the sight; dog drool is just not my thing.

“Don’t like dogs?” Clarke asked and her voice was worried. I met those blue fucking eyes again. Why do her eyes have to be so damn perfect? Like fresh water to drown in. Yeah, I would drown in her willingly.

I forgot to answer and her eyes are moving. Moving away from me, and damn it. I didn’t answer. Didn’t tell her that I could love that dog, but just droll. Damn it. Fucking damn it. Get your shit together.

But that fucking voice is back reminding me that I screwed it all up. I don’t have a chance in hell to drown in Clarke or even taste… Damn it! Stop!

Emori is back then, and she has her hands in her pockets looking around. I know that look. Emori is looking for a reason to stall… and she’s as intrigued by Clarke as I am. And it pisses me off. Every atom on hyper speed wishing this was some fucked up Alpha-Omega verse where I would only have to show Clarke that I was the dominate bitch in the room. Leaving Em a bloody mess for even looking at what should clearly be mine.

 _Never going to be yours_.

That fucking voice. I try to shake it away, and Emori is looking at me funny, but fuck her. She’s got Tris wrapped on her fucking finger and that other dancer bitch. She can’t have Clarke too. Not when she names her dog after me. No, she’s mine.

_Never going to be yours._

“Yes she will,” I say quietly, but the room is small and eerily quite beyond Tris’s giggles.

“She will what?” Clarke asks me, and damn it now I have to lie to her. I’m shit at lying though. Like my fucking cheeks turn pink every pinche time.

“She’ll never let that dog go. We’re going to be here for awhile,” I try but there is nothing in my voice that is even somewhat convincing. But Tris throws her arms over the dog’s neck, and nuzzles into his head.

“Can I stay forever?” she begs Clarke, and childish tone her voice takes pulls a warm smile from Emori. Bitch. You can’t have them all. You can’t look at Tris and make heart eyes at what’s mine. You can’t just be there for her and comfort her. That’s my job.

_You’re the cause of all of her pain._

I turn from them all and peak into the tiny kitchen. It’s walled off from the rest of the house. The sink is half filled with dirty dishes, and it was clear the blonde had no intention of having guests.

I wonder what her day to day is like. Does she get up and make coffee? I see the tiny Keurig machine on the limited counter space. The place is set for minimal occupancy. Only space at the table for two, maybe three.

Looking around the room we were in, I noticed several photos. Most held Clarke and Raven clinging to each other. A few there was a boy/man in the shot. His large nose taking up most of his ferret like face. I see a photo on the small coffee table that demands my attention. Clarke and Raven are scrunched on what looks like this very tiny couch that Emori has placed herself on. That principal dude is on the arm, and the big nosed boy on the other with gassy glitter girl next to Clarke. Her arm around the girl. The photo doesn’t look too old but it is clearly a family photo. So this is Clarke’s family. A mismatched family in the mismatched house.

Looking up, I point to Octavia and as, “Is she your sister?” I mean she doesn’t look like Clarke next to being short and she did call Clarke “Griffin” when they first met. That doesn’t scream family.

Clarke takes the photo back from me and sets it back in its place. She answers as she turns away from me and moves into the kitchen, “In a sort. We are all… fosters. Marcus fostered us. Octavia is the newest.”

Makes more sense now. A lot more sense. The Raven girl and her protectiveness. They had all been through some shit probably. I wonder if she’ll ever tell me.

 _She won’t._ You know what, fuck you voice. Go away! But it doesn’t. It will never go away. Her fucking voice as a constant reminder.

“Rexi,” she calls, dumping a huge scoop from a plastic container into an over large ceramic bowl. I notice the purple and orange collar as the dog leapt from Tris’ arms and bound into the kitchen at the sound of the food hitting the bowl.

I feel Emori’s closeness. I hadn’t even realized she moved from the couch. Her breath on my ear gives me a shiver as she tells me, “Do something so we can stay.”

My return glare is nothing short of a warning. Yeah, I want to be an alpha right now. Emori’s brow shoots up as she tilts her head. I watch her calculating me. Measuring me and I wonder if I fall short. Well I am shorter than she is, but still.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” she answers her own question, a puff of breath leaving her chest. Her eyes fall to where Tris is dusting off dirt and hair from her sweatshirt and jeans. More quietly she says, “I want her.”

I roll my eyes. They need to figure their shit out and stay out of mine. Without much subtly, I say to her, “You two need to get a room and fuck it out already.”

Tris’ eyes fly up and Emori’s face is so red I swear she may actually hit me for just stating the truth. They needed to hook up already.

“Spare room is on the left. Queen bed, just no squirting on the bed. I think I forgot to put the mattress pad down when I changed the sheets last,” Clarke said, her arms crossed her chest and leaning in the tiny Clarke sized doorway. Because seriously everything about this house is small. I am pretty sure this whole thing would fit in the master suite of my place.

Tris turns red this time and her eyes meet Clarke’s in utter shock. They stay on her for a moment and I wonder if I need to tear open her throat as well. But they shift to Emori, who is running a hand over the back of her neck clearly uncomfortable.

I laugh. It’s probably too loud, but still. The two are so hopeless. Clarke is laughing too and the sound is just sweet. Sweet and gentile. Not like mine that is too deep and loud. But she is laughing with me, and we are being like normal. Like how I think normal people would act.

Emori slugs me in the shoulder, but I dodge most of the blow. I move from her and end up closer to Clarke. More quietly, but still loud enough for the other two to hear, “They wouldn’t do it. They just like to carry around hard ons for each other. Though I think that Tris would top Em easily given the chance.”

Clarke looks me over, and then the other two. Her hand goes into her pocket and pulls out a wrinkled ten-dollar bill. “I’ll put ten on it that one of them would climax just kissing the other.”

I smile and look back at the wide eyes of the two girls that are doing everything possible not to look at each other. I hold my hand out to Emori. “Give me that ten bucks you owe me.” My hand is waving back at me, but she’s not moving.

“Shut the hell up, Lex,” Emori says turning to the door, and making a move to leave. “Time to go,” she says.

Tris is on her feet then, and she has a twenty-dollar bill in her hand. She is waving it, with the most hopefully gleam in her eyes; I would swear it was fucking Christmas in October. “I will see your ten and raise you another that it is Em,” glancing back she adds, “because I am that good.” She starts to hand the money to Clarke when she stops meeting my eye, “Only if you give blondie her present.”

My mouth is open. I am not sure how it got open. That’s not the point though, because fuck. She just… fuck!

Looking back at Clarke her head is tilted and she is studying me again. I shoot daggers at Tris, but she is waving her twenty dollars in my face, and she knew. The bitch knew I didn’t back down from a bet.

I drop my head, because now Clarke is expecting a present and I don’t even have it. It’s in my fucking baby. I look to Clarke and shake my head. “I’m sorry, but it’s in my car.”

Tris is running out the door, “Nope! I lifted it from your pansy ass!”

I look at Clarke, and she asks, “Is this why you were the equivalent of a bag of dicks tonight?”

I squint at her. She really had a fascination with me and dicks. I smile, and lean forward just enough to enter her personal bubble. I watched her eyes drop to my lips as I say, “You sure have a fascination with me and cocks.” I pause just for a moment to see if I am too close, but she is still looking at my lips. So I take a chance, “I can make that dream happen some time if you would like.”

I hear Tris’s feet hit the hard wood floor and the dog pushed between Clarke and I through the door and I almost lose my balance but Emori was looking out, and pushed me forward. Just a little too hard. Just a little too much force and I find myself barely catching myself before I body slam Clarke into her wall. Her chin is barely missing my chest and her breath is warm on my throat.

“I’m sorry,” I say as I pull back. Clarke holds me still just for a moment though. Her voice is an octave lower as she quietly says, “If anyone would be taking the other’s dick. You would be riding mine. I would even let you choose the color.”

I can’t breathe as I picture Clarke above me… Clarke pumping into me as I beg for more. Yeah, I would beg for her. Because then I would get to touch her.

“Blue,” I say. And I look down to see her wink.

Her voice is low again, and she answers, “I have blue. But you have to be less of a dick or I don’t think mine will fit.”

Tris is pulling me back away then, and I see the hope that was there a moment ago replaced by worry. She is shaking her head as she tells me, “No.” And I know what she was thinking. How could she not think that I am making Clarke uncomfortable?

I nod to I tell her that I understand, and she pulls me to the couch. When my knees hit, she pushes me downward. “Hands to yourself,” she says pointing at me, and then she tosses the package in my lap.

Emori is still standing awkwardly in the room and I can tell she is losing her cool. I smile because at least I’m not the only one that has had a night of uncomfortable feelings.

Tris returns to Clarke and grabs her arm. Without a word, she guides Clarke to the arm chair. Clarke sits without having to be pushed, and she smiles holding out her hand for the money. Tris casts a glance back at Emori and I watch as she places the money in blonde’s hand.

Even I have to admit its fucking cute how excited Tris is. Emori looks like she may shit her pants though and that makes this so much better. Tris moves towards Emori and tugs on her sweater sleeve.

“Em, it’s okay really. I am that good,” and her smile is broad and cocky.  Emori looks over the girl, and I see her swallow. She is seriously scared, and I know that feeling. Clarke is so close and if it was me, I would be terrified too.

Emori spoke softly, and I wonder if she even cares if we hear her, “I… I don’t know if this is smart.”

Tris doesn’t give her anymore time really to think about it. She is moving closer and completely within Emori’s bubble. I hold my breath as I watch her place a tentative hand on Em’s waist just breathing the other girl in, and urging her to relax under her touch. It was soft and slow, each moving in closer. Tris positioned so closely waiting for Emori to close the distance.

But she doesn’t.

No, the chicken shit turns away with only the words, “This is stupid.” She ran away with four steps and an open and close of the door. Tris stood her head only moving to stare at the floor.

Clarke is on her feet then, and moving to the door. She’s at the door when it flies back open barely missing her face. She caught it before it hit the bookcase, and moved just enough to be missed by Emori flying back through the door. Her body colliding with Tris, and her hand holding the other girl’s neck stopping so close. Stopping only to whisper, “I’m an idiot.” And their lips meet.

It is slow and deep. Heads angled so perfectly that the two should win a fucking Oscar for best kiss. Tris’s hands find Emori’s waist and pulls the other woman flush with her. They held the kiss, only for moments later to open their lips and allow the other to conform into each other even closer.

I shouldn’t be staring but seriously this was hot. It was so hot that I couldn’t pull my eyes away from my two friends as they part and return. Emori backing Tris to the space on the wall that I had been over Clarke only moments before and Tris allowed it. Allowed Emori to press so completely into her. Emori’s body blocking all of the view is slightly disappointing, but I know that both of them had been waiting for this moment for too long.

Clarke’s holding out her hand, and I move to slap it in a low five but she pulls it away. Shaking her head, she says to me, “I want my present. Friend Rule, you still don’t get to touch me, dick.”

I still have the present on my lap. I’m taste the blood from biting my lip and my whole body feels heavy. I pick it up and twist it in my hands. Without looking at her, I say, “I was being dumb when I bought this. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Did you buy me a strap?” she asks and when I look up at her I realize I never want to play poker with that face. It’s so serious, and I have to admit that her serious face is so adorable.

The sound of a too real moan came from the other side of the room, and I remembered that Tris and Emori are literally ten feet from us in a full-blown make-out session. The grip that Tris has on Em’s ass, tells me that Tris was serious about winning that twenty bucks.

“You’re going to lose your money,” I say, but I feel the present jerked from my lap and I look over to see Clarke already tearing the paper off of it.

Her smile is broad as she said, “Never bet money I’m not willing to lose. Plus I got a brand new…” and she stopped talking when the box came into view. Her eyes lifted immediately to me.

The color behind her head radiated brightly off her golden hair, and I want to be cheesey and compare her to the sun and her eyes to the fucking sky. But I can’t because she is so serious again as she is looking at me.

The air is leaving the room, probably being swallowed by Emori’s gasps as I am pretty sure those two are totally having clothes on sex in front of us, but its like gone and I am suffocating.

I pull on the neck of my sweatshirt. I just need something. Something to make this just some how, anyhow, less awkward. My mind is racing trying to explain the present, but I keep hearing Emori’s words that Clarke is going to think I’m trying to buy my way into her pants.

I look at her, but it’s too much again. No, I need to get out of here. This was so stupid and I am glad that Tris won her twenty bucks but I need to leave. I’m up and I am pulling on Emori.

“We need to go,” I tell her, but her lips are still hooked to Tris’s and she is swatting me away. I pull again, “I need to leave.”

Tris’s face appears for just a moment, but it was enough of a glare, as her sharp tongue nearly spat at me, “I am like two minutes from winning this bet, and I have been waiting for this for months so go wait in the fucking car.”

I take a step back, and I am not even completely away before they are back at it, and Emori pressed against Tris. And damn it this was the dumbest idea ever. They would be two people to be all voyeuristic and want their first time to be against a wall with all their clothes on to win a bet. Fucking stupid.

I turn to leave, but Clarke is blocking the door. She is blocking the door and her lips are moving. They’re moving but I can’t hear her because I am trying to hard to just find away out. Pacing, I pull at my sweatshirt.

I’m so stupid. How could I ever think that she would accept something from me? That she could see me. No one can see me because I’m nothing. I’m nothing and I must be mumbling this because I know my lips are moving. They’re moving and I am trying to find a way to explain that I’m sorry.

“… not sex… just wanted… phone number…” fragmented words to go with my fragmented incoherent thoughts. “Sorry… so stupid…”

Clarke’s voice.

The voice stops me in my tracks.

The hollow path that I am quickly treading within her creaking wood floors is halted, in her tiny house in the middle of nowhere. In the house that said so much, and yet she so little. Hiding behind snarky sexually charged comments. Never a serious conversation, just her calling me a dick. Or a cock. Or a dong. But she was so serious and I don’t know how to be serious with Clarke and not have her laugh at me.

The woman seriously has too many dick references. Like a phone of dick joke photos and mimes. Is that even the word? But I can’t think about it because her fucking finger pointing to the dark hallway.

It’s telling me to go to the bathroom, because apparently fingers can talk now. I mean it’s Clarke though and I feel like every part of her could talk with me. I just stop and look at her because I just want to leave, and I can’t I’m stuck.

I’m stuck and she has her hands on me and is pushing me. She pushes me and everyone has been pushing me all fucking night.

“No,” I say, but she is still pushing me. Like my choice means nothing to her. Just like her choice meant nothing to me. “I’m a bastard but I wasn’t trying to sleep with you.”

Clarke stops pushing me, and just holds me for a second. She looks my face over. Her face so complete studious like she is learning me. Carefully, she asks, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

I look back at where Emori’s head is thrown back and Tris is helping her down from a surprisingly silent climax. I toss my hand back, and try to answer, “I just… I wanted your number and you said your phone was broke. I wanted to talk with you and Em said you would think… that…” I swallow trying to get my shit together, “you would think I was trying to get in your pants… and I blamed you for me fucking up in the game… but it was my… my fault and I was a dick…”

“Yes, you were a dick, we have covered this extensively,” she said with a soft smile.

I sigh and let her pull me away from where the two were back in a lip lock, and seriously how did those to douche bags not know that I was fucking up again.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her as she pushes me into not the bathroom. This room has a bed and… why the fuck is she taking me to bed?

The room is pretty empty and she is pushing me towards the bed and pushing me back. I don’t want it to be like this. I want to know her better first. I want to be more than this to her. But she is pushing me on the bed and pulling my legs up and pulling off my shoes.

I stop her. I stop her when I touch her. I touch her hands that are pulling at my chucks. She pulls back quickly, and her eyes meet mine. “What are you doing?” I ask, because there isn’t anything else to do.

“You need sleep,” she says simply. So simply like she wasn’t tucking her almost rapist into bed. I look to see the open closet spilling out with another rainbow of chaos. This is her bed. She is putting me in her bed.

I try to get up but she pushes me back down. “Stay,” and it's that tone again that I won’t dare disobey.

I watch her leave and the door closes mostly behind her. Shutting out the light so I am in the dark. I hear her though. She is loud as she tells Emori and Tris to either go home or to the spare room. They were not to fuck on her wall anymore apparently.

“Where’s Lex?” I hear Emori ask.

Clarke’s voice follows and it’s like music coming down the hall. Her sweet voice telling them that I was sleeping here so we could talk tomorrow. I can’t hear anymore of the conversation, but the door clothes and the light enters the room again as the door is pushed open. I don't see Clarke and in a moment I know why. The bed dips under the weight of the huge dog as it curls up at the foot and lays it’s heavy head over my leg.

When I look to the door, I see Clarke coming back into the room and rummaging through a few drawers. She meets my gaze again and I hold my breath.

“She has to be touching and its her bed too. Sorry,” I nod and don’t say anything in return. She walks out of the room and I don’t know where she goes but lights are flipped off and only a small night light is left for me to see her move across the narrow hallway. A door opens and then closes.

I wish I could miss the sound of the lock clicking into place, but I don’t. And it hits just like everything else always does. Like the slap that the waitress dealt me across my face tonight.

Clarke is the savior of lost causes. I am her newest lost cause. She doesn’t like me. She’ll never love me. Because I am just a project for her.


	12. Your Rules Suck

**~Clarke~**

_What the hall am I doing? I let her sleep in my bed and her friends left._

Getting to sleep was difficult, and Rexa, that little traitor, stayed with Lexa for the entire night. Waking up should have been more difficult but it wasn’t. Not when I opened my eyes to find that I was asleep in the bed that was not mine. Seriously, my bed is so much more comfortable.

I roll off the spring filled mattress and stretch out. My neck aches, but at least I know now that this bed needs new pillows and a mattress pad. _Why hasn’t anyone told me this bed sucks so badly?_

Moving from the room, I don’t hear anything but Rexa’s snores coming from the open door of my room. I hope that Lexa actually slept. I also hope for some reason that she is till here. I am not sure how she would leave but I wouldn’t put it past her.

As I pee, I make a list of things that I need to say to her face to face. I mean we are already breaking one of our rules since we will be here alone. So we need new rules. I think we need new rules, but seriously the rules are not working out that well for us.

I sit on the toilet longer than I need to and when Lexa is leaving the room, I realize that forgot to shut the door. _Damn it!_ She is stretching her long arms up as she turns to enter the bathroom. I let out a very awkward squeak and quickly kick the door shut. I see her sleepy startled face as the door closes as she jumps as the door slams in her face.

Holding my hands on my knees I groan. I just peed in front of her. There goes another friend rule. I hear a knock though. It is soft but doesn’t stop Rexa from storming through the house and barking at the front door. _So perceptive Rexi._

The knocking stops, but then its just her gravely morning voice. And I am glad I haven’t wiped yet because her voice is hot.

“We didn’t break the rule,” she says. She clears her throat then, and says, “I wasn’t in the room so we’re good, no harm.”

I want to laugh. I want to but Lexa totally just saw my half naked ass on the toilet. The least sexy position.

“Clarke?” she says my name, and… it jus too much. _Why couldn’t she be in dick mode? Why did she have to be so, just so, nice?_

I huff out and wipe, calling back to her, “Just a second.” I don’t have to say it loudly, I mean the bathroom is a tight fit already and I am sure she could hear it if I farted right now.

I hear her footsteps retreating down the hall and I get up. Pulling up the baggy sweatpants. Looking in the mirror, I wipe away the left over mascara that had smeared under my eyes. Looking back in the chipped mirror, I suck in my upper lip. Trying to remember my list of things I need to tell her.

There is another knock on the rood then, and I jump because I thought she had left. “I’m sorry but I really need to pee,” she says through the wood. I pull open the door and catch a tumbling Lexa that apparently had her face literally pressed to the door.

I laugh and help her back to her huge feet. I had never noticed how big her feet really were. No wonder she trips so often. But I poke fun at her anyways, “Always trip over yourself in my presence. If you weren’t such a tool, I would think I make your knees weak.”

Her face blushes and she runs her hand over her face. She blocking the door, and I can’t get out. She starts to move around me, but seriously she is huge and the bathroom small and I am literally ass in the sink as we try to negotiate around each other without her touching me.

When she makes it in front of the toilet, she looks at me still sitting my sink. Her eye brows raise, and she asks, “Are you going to watch?”

I leap from the sink. I think I may have literally harnessed my inner Supergirl as I flew out of the room with her laughing at me. Rexa tackles me in the living room, and I find myself on my ass under the heap of dog. Apparently the traitor did miss her after all. Rexa’s snout nuzzles into my neck and I am not going to lie her giant wet nose just makes me happy even though its cold.

“I know Rexa Tripaw, you're hungry but you are a traitor. We had an alliance and you totally broke it. Traded me in for your bloody namesake,” I tell the dog as I pull her goofy smiling face up and shake it over me. “Traitor, that's what you are!”Rexa huffs and shakes her head above me again.

I hear the bathroom door before I see the tentative steps just a few feet from my head. I reach up and beg, “Save me from my monster.” Lexa smiles and steps over me and Rexa with those insanely long legs.

“Sorry, Klark but friend rule is no touching,” and I am just like _Bitch!_ I push my mutt off of me, and she scrambles through the kitchen. I know she will be sitting next to the back door.

As I’m pushing up, I call towards the kitchen, “Will you let Rexa out please?”

“You think you can just order me around woman,” Lexa states and I feel this overwhelming sense of domesticity. I hear the door open and close, followed by cabinets being opened and shut.

“Just make yourself at home,” I say as I turn the corner into the kitchen. She has clearly found the cups for coffee and was pulling eggs out of the fridge.

 _Is she seriously cooking me breakfast in my kitchen?_ I consider stepping in, but I am curious to see how comfortable she will make herself. I push myself up on the counter and sit back against the cabinet.

Lexa opens every drawer and cabinet as she looks for the tools she wants. She comes closer and waves her hand at me. Clearly she wants in the drawer I am blocking. I pull my feet up and give her access, and she pulls open the drawer pulling out a spatula before closing the drawer.

“Your kitchen is not set up correctly,” she tells me, and I drop my feet as my eyes roll.

Lexa must have caught my eye roll because she is shaking the spatula at me. “I mean it. Your cooking utensils should be near the stove not near the sink. The coffee cups belong near the coffee machine. You are a mess, Ms. Griffin.” Her words cut a little. I mean its my kitchen and it works for me. I made this place mine.

I hop down from the counter and move to the door. I just need to escape Lexa’s judgment. I worked hard to make this place less of a shit hole, and I don’t need her telling me I didn’t do it correctly. Its not like there was someone there to tell me that cups go near the coffee pot or how to even cook. But she just walks in and acts all superior, and she can go to hell.

Rexa is still running around the fenced in yard. When she sees me, she runs towards me, so I turn and run away from her. It a fun game of chase that she always wins.

We make it two laps through the yard before Lexa is calling to me to tell me breakfast was ready. I look over at the door and I consider not going in. I don’t need her food.

_Wait. That’s my food. Okay, I’ll go eat my food. So what she cooked it._

I whistle to Rexa and she follows me in, doing a dance around her bowl. “I know. I know!” I tell her, and dump a over filled scoop into her bowl.

Lexa is waiting at the table to eat with me. I realize that letting her sleep in my bed may have been a mistake. It wasn’t intentional. I really thought that Tris and Emori were going to take the spare room and I would just sleep on the couch. But no, they had to run off to have real sex somewhere, leaving me with Lexa. Lexa, who is sitting at my tiny ass table and judging my kitchen.

I take a seat and look down at the eggs and toast on the plate. It was simple, but I know she had little to work with in my kitchen. I take a bite of the eggs and they taste like eggs. Lexa watches me take that first bite, like this was a five star cuisine.

Her eyes are big and waiting expectantly. I raise my own brows and hum, “Mmmm.”

 But seriously its eggs with a little salt and pepper, _what the hell is she expecting?_

She smiles then and takes her own bite. I try hard not to roll my eyes. Like it really takes some effort.

Its quiet as we eat, but as we are finishing she says, “You said no loaning money.”

I feel the wrinkle in my forehead deepened, as I look her over. I am so confused as to where this is going.

Lexa is moving to the sink. First she finds the sponge and smells it. Her nose crinkles and she holds it at an arms distance. “Please tell me there is a new one of these somewhere.” I point the the cabinet under the sink. She tosses the old sponge in the trash on the other side of the room, and of course Miss Perfect sinks it. What shocks me though is she starts washing the dishes that weren’t even from breakfast. _What is she doing?_

“You said I couldn’t loan you money and I wanted to talk with you. The phone is not a loan, it's a gift,” she continues as though the sponge comment had not interrupted her. I watch as she meticulously washes each dish exactly the same way. Like her hands are programed to do this job in a particular way. It’s almost robotic, and to me it screams some form of cumplosive disorder.

I realize though that she has paused and is waiting for me. I clear my throat, and answer, “It’s too much.”

She shakes her head though, and says, “Not for me.”

“I can’t match gifts like that,” I fire back, but she is shaking her head still. Like literally brushing away my words with her perfect curls.

She looks over at me, her hands still circling a plate from center to the outter edge. “Gifts are not about matching a price. They are about intent. And my gift is selfish,” she eplains. I think about is and I have to agree it was kind of a selfish purpose. “And I’m not taking it back and I’m not expecting anything in return. So please just take it and give me your number already. I mean I cooked you breakfast-“

“With my food.” She smiles and looks back at me, and _damn it why is she so dazzling?_

She waved a plate at me, “And I did you dishes.”

Rexa rubbed her body against Lexa legs and she moved a little away. I realized she never answered me last night when I asked her if she was okay with dogs. “Hey, you never told me if you were okay with dogs.”

Lexa glances down at Rexa who is smiling back up at her, waiting for her to hand down a plate for cleaning. I won’t lie that is totally the usual dish washing practice in the house.

Lexa turned back to the sink, and confessed, “I was attacked by a dog when I was a kid and I am kind of edgy around them, but I saw the sign.”

I smile. I forgot about the small sign on one of my bookcases warning all visitors that they were guests and Rexa lives here.

> Raven made that for me when my ex was a jerk about Rexa sitting on the couch. Needless to say that relationship didn’t last long.

I swallow and snap my fingers getting the dog’s attention. She ambles over and I set my plate on the floor for her to occupy her. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have let her sleep with you-“

She waved again, and states, “I was in her bed, if I remember correctly.”

I pull my legs up in the chair and I watch as Lexa finishes washing the rest of the dishes. I could get use to this Lexa. I could fall for this Lexa, but I know. I know that this Lexa will vanish in a blink of an eye. She’ll vanish and I will be hurt again.

I feel it starting. The bubbling of inadequacy from some hidden organ within my being. It always starts in my gut, and I feel it building. I wish I could just shut it off but the feeling grows until I have to put my legs down. The pressure is too dense and I just need it to go away.

I try to distract myself, by leaving the kitchen but its still there. Coating the energy around me until it becomes part of the walls. The walls of this poor house that hold too much.

Lexa is standing behind me, and I know I need to talk with her, but I need to clear my mind first. I move to the couch and click the remote on the television. I recognize the dogs on the screen immediately, and Rexa is in front of the television in a moment. Her head resting on the TV stand watching as the dogs run through the woods with a whiney cat following.

“I used to love this movie,” she says. She sits in the armchair across the room from me. It takes her a moment, but she points to Rexa and casts me a puzzled look. “Is your dog watching TV?”

I laugh. Rexa always loves to show off her party trick. I nod, explaining, “She just started watching a game with me one day. Now she turns it on whenever she feels like it. Having figured out that the white controller is what turns on the TV.” I laugh for a moment and the tension lightens a little. “I went through a few controllers but she seems to use her paws now and not her teeth.”

Lexa is staring at my baby in awe and says, “Okay, I officially love this dog more than Tris does.”

 _She loves my dog!_ A part of me wants to jump and give Rexi a hug, but that would be uncool. So I lean back and enjoy _Homeward Bound._ Lexa sits quietly as well, and I can tell she is still waiting for me to say something. I’m not ready yet. I have too much to say and not sure how any of it should come out.

As the dogs run through the train yard, I realize that my time must be running out. I mean she has to be busy or have plans. Probably some girl to bang. I shift in my seat and see her body casually slung over the chair. One leg on the arm and her face resting on her hand across the other arm.

“So we broke another rule,” I say. I’m not sure why I start with that but I do. Lexa’s eyes wander over to me without the rest of her body moving. I see the concern flashing, but I shake my head. “And I have to say it wasn’t too bad even though you insulted my kitchen.”

Her head pops up and her arm shoots out, “Dude! It’s chaos. How do you even cook?”

I blush. I know it. I can feel it in my cheeks. I bite my lip, but release it to confess, “I don’t. I microwave and I eat frozen waffles.”

She laughs and shakes her head, “That will explain the several boxes of blueberry Egos.”

I wrap my arms around my legs that have found my chest again, before leading into the next confession, “I don’t know how to cook, and my mom ditched me when I was 14. Marcus doesn’t cook, and Raven wouldn’t let me in the kitchen after I tried to bake fishsticks in the box.”

“I can teach you,” she says so simply. Like being here with me isn’t the weirdest thing ever. I mean it is weird and every time I look at her I keep waiting for her dark angry eyes. But they are just green. Just green and casual. “I mean that is only if you let me reorganize your kitchen and you get pots and pans that don’t look like they came from World War I.”

I chuck the throw pillow at her, and she hops up quickly. Her hand catches it but she doesn’t release it. No, instead she takes one giant step and wacks me with it. I glare up at her as my mussed hair is put back in place by my hands. I grab the other pillow, and I stand up. “You have started a war you won’t be able to end.”

“Bring it,” she says holding her arms out, her cocky attitude returning.

I don’t want to let her head expand and shatter my fragile walls, so I strike. Landing the first blow to her stomach hard. She leans forward and I have perfect access to her head. I take it. I mean its war after all.

The pillow knocks her to the couch and she is trying to scramble back to her feet, but she is no match for me. I mean I lived with Raven and John. I am used to wars and I don’t like to lose.

I get to close though, and her hands are on me. They are on me and pulling me down. I land with a huff on the couch, and her fingers are dancing over my sides. I screech out begging her to stop, and she is smiling down at me. Her eyes are smiling as her fingers dance over my most vulnerable sides. I struggle to free myself, when suddenly she is gone and when I open my eyes she is on the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry,” and we enter melt down number three in 24 hours. “I… shit… I swear…” Her hands were up and her back was on the wall.

Pushing up, I state, “I need you to use a freak out meter for me.”

Lexa eyes are on me, but she is holding up my wall like the weight of my whole roof was resting on that one set of studs. “A what?”

“One you are completely chill and ten you are shitting your pants,” I explain. She wants to smile, but I can see she is terrified right now. “So, where you at right now.”

“Seven.” She nods as the number sneaks past her lips.

I sit back on the couch. I think about it for a moment, and say, “Okay when you get to a five, I need you to sit on the chair. Until then, please continue supporting the wall. I mean I thought I would have put up a support post but you seem to be doing a good enough job.”

She smiles this time, and I know we are getting somewhere. “Let’s talk rules.”

“I hate the rules,” she admits, but her eyes fall before she says it. I think she may be afraid of telling me this. I won’t lie, I’m afraid of hearing it. The rules were supposed to help me feel more at ease. But the rules were causing her to trip, and then become a walking penis.

I sigh before pulling my lip into my mouth. My hand plays with the dog hair that is quickly rolling into a ball under my fingers. I need to brush that T-rex soon before she covers everything in her summer coat. “Okay. Yes, they are not working.”

I look her over and she is inching towards the chair. We must be getting to a six, which is good.

“I just want to be your friend, but I feel like when I try, I break one of your rules. And it’s not fair that Emori gets to comfort you and I get to just be the one that causes you distress,” she says. Her butt is on the arm of the chair.

I watch her and wait. I wait for her to continue but she doesn’t say anything else. She is waiting for me to say something. This shift in conversation should be easy, but it just so difficult. Because I have to say something. Anything. I just don’t know what to say.

She speaks again, and I literally breath out so hard, she must have realized that I was running out of air. “Clarke.”

_Why do I feel so light when she says my name?_

“I know I fucked up, but I need you to know that is not who I am. I have my moments were I am a bitch… no dick. I know I’m a dick. But its not who I am. I was never that person. I was always so scared, and I had like no self-confidence. That was what Anya did for me. She gave me confidence, helped me know when I could be vulnerable and when I needed to act adult. We met in college.” She pauses, but doesn’t give me a chance to speak.

“She was my everything, and I was so broken when she was traded. I did so many stupid things starting with Costia and ending with you last night. I want to believe that I would have stopped that night at the bar. That I would have realized what I was doing.” Her ass was in the chair, and she was using her hands to speak. Gesturing to her self.

“I’m a mess, Clarke. I am insecure and I get so scared that I can’t fix what I did,” she says and her eyes are welling. She is going to cry in this, and I don’t want her to cry. I have seen Lexa Trikru cry and it’s not a pretty sight. But the first tears fall, leaving tracks down her cheeks and dropping from her chin onto her jeans. “I broke what Anya and I had. I tore our lives apart because I was angry and couldn’t control myself. And Clarke I loved her.”

I move towards her, placing a hand on her knee. She is looking at me as more crocodile tears are falling. “I love you too. It’s not the same but I know I love you. And I am not trying to have sex with you. It’s just you’re the first person to remind me. Remind me that I’m a dick when I am alone. I need your friendship.”

The confession is overwhelming. Hearing Lexa tell me she loves me is like a dream come true. At the same point, I know she means that she loves me for being a person, which is something I am going to have to accept. I have to accept it because Lexa is not going away easily. I mean hell, she bought me a phone just to have my number.

“I don’t want to be your new project, Clarke. I want to be your friend,” she says honestly, hitting the nail on the head.

> With one blow she pegged me for who I was. I was always looking for a project. Someone one to fix. Someone to lead into some form of betterment.

It makes me wonder if she understands why. If she knows who I am. If she knows what I have done. If she knows that I am just as fucked up as she is, but I just hide my crazy better.

I should tell her. I should tell her everything. I should tell her why my mom signed me away. That she can’t even spend holidays with me. That I broke my own mother, but like my presence in Lexa’s life is tearing her apart. I ruined everything, and I can’t fix it. And I can’t fix her. I can’t fix Lexa. Only Lexa can fix Lexa.

I don’t have any words, but I know she needs something. I know she needs to know that I am here, but I don’t know how to tell her. So I do something really dumb. I do the thing that I do when I want to be there for someone and I don’t know how to.

I offer her me. I move from the table, between her knees and I press my lips to hers. I press my lips to hers and feel the wet softness that makes of Lexa.

It is nothing like the last time we kissed. It was not heavy with lust, stealing away our breath. It was soft and gentle. Tentative, as she pulled away and looked at me. Complete bewilderment in her eyes, I can tell she doesn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do either, so I hold still and wait for her to decide what she wants.

Her hands are fixed on the arms of the chair. They are holding so tightly. I can tell she is still trying to abide by the rules. The rules to not touch me.

Looking in her puffy, grassy eyes, I nod.

That's all it takes for her to carefully raise her hand to the back of my neck. Her eyes fall to my lips as she leans into the next kiss. This one is just as gentle, and the little voice in me is begging that she wants more than to just be my friend. Begging that this was more than just her getting what she had wanted all along.

I break away, when she tries to come back in for the next round after tilting her head. I pull back and shake my head. “I’m sorry. I just not ready yet.”

I can see the pain in her face, but I can’t. I can’t be this girl. I have always been this girl and it doesn’t work. “I just need to be more than just this. You freaking out and me giving you, well me.”

She nods, and says, “I can wait… or I can take you on a date. Would you let me… you know try to be… more.” I see her swallow.

“We couldn’t be friends, Lexa. Do you really think that this,” I wave between our bodies, “can be more?”

She is nodding. Nodding and eagerly. Her head moving up and down, she says, “We can’t be friends because you gave us stupid rules, and… and I’m sure because I’m at a 10. And I’m okay with being at a 10 over you.”

I smack my hand down on her leg. “I wouldn’t of given us rules if you weren’t a dick, and for the record you just broke another rule.” Her eyes scrunch and she is clearly confused. “We said no talking about shit, and you just said you were going to shit your pants if I would go on a date with you.”

Her mouth dropped, and she took a moment to answer, but when she did it made me laugh, “I mean it was… No, its because this a stupid rule!”

I jump up, and argue, “Shitting and taking a photo of it or just leaving it, is not a stupid rule!” I say to her. “You clearly don’t have a brother that thought it was funny to ferment his droppings in your shared bathroom.”

“Only child,” she says with a shrug.

I wave at her, “I already knew that.”

“Stalker,” she quips back, and I glare at her.

“You bought me a phone to have my number. Pretty sure you’re the stalker. You probably installed the GPS on it.” She doesn’t answer which should freak me out, but when I look at the box I see it is still in the plastic wrap.

I move back to where the remote is and flip through the channels. On the fifth try, Harry Potter is on the screen staring at a racing broom and I do a little dance. I forget that she is watching me and just witnessed my ridiculous HP marathon dance. I look to my dog though that is still fixated on the TV. With my best British accent, I ask the dog, “Rexi Tripaw you wanna have a Harry Potter Marathon?”

Rexa barks at me, and I take that for a yes.

Turning back to Lexa, I point to the kitchen. “Go do your damage. Rex and I are going to enjoy one of our favorites.”

Lexa hops up and bolts to the kitchen. It is clear she has been waiting for this permission all morning. I hear the drawers and cabinets being opened and emptied noisily. I yell as I raise the volume, “You are screwing with the sorting hat’s speech!”

She appears in the doorway holding up a dented pot and a wooden spoon with teeth marks on the handle. “I need to throw these away. I cannot even discuss the uselessness of this pot, or the unsanitary condition of this spoon.”

I sprawl on the couch, and wave at her. I don’t really care. It’s not like I ever use that stuff anyways. “Do what ever you want, just do it quietly. I am watching Harry Potter.”

She smiles but then hesitates. Her eyes shoot to the bookcase, and she asks, “Is purple good?”

I look at her and follow her eyes. I smile and realize she is trying to piece it all together. “The purple are favorites. The orange are things to recommend. The yellow are only for appropriate audience, and the red are don’t waste your time.”

She nods and moves back into the kitchen. She is back in a second though, and she asks, “Can I borrow the first one to Harry Potter? I wasn’t allowed to read them when I was a kid.”

I shoot up. My eyes are huge and I am staring at her. “You have never read Harry Potter?”

She shakes her head and she is biting her lower lip again. That lip that I kissed. I kissed Lexa fucking Trikru.

“But you have seen the movies right?”

Again she shakes her head.

_What the fuck? No wonder she is so screwed up._

I point to the couch, and say, “Come. You are watching the marathon with us.”

She looks back at the kitchen and she pouts a little. “But…”

“It will be there for you tomorrow,” I answer. I pat the seat next to me. For some reason the idea of being near her is not as terrifying after everything. After I kissed her, and she didn’t try to assault me.

Her eye brows raised. She looked down at the clothes she had been wearing since yesterday. I know what she is getting at. I move from the couch with a huff and run to my bedroom. Digging through the drawers I find a pair of knee length sweat pants and baggy Ark Academy T-shirt. Once they are in my hands, I move back to the living room and throw them at her, before returning to my seat on the couch.

“Change. You are going chonieless because that’s just weird.”

She moves slowly from her project, and I yell at her, “Move your ass, you’re missing the first movie.” I laugh when I see her strides widen and her body disappear down the five foot hallway. I don’t hear the door close and I can’t help it. I move over the coffee table and try to sneak a peak.

But she is back before I can pull back at hearing her footsteps. I am totally busted, and my red face gives it away if my recoil wasn’t enough of a give away. She smiles though and shakes her head.

“You’re a perv, Griffin.”

I am a perv. I know it. But I can’t just let that stand, so I throw back, “Well you’re a womb weasel, Trikru.”

 


	13. Bad Timing

**~Lexa~**

 

I’m not sure why I let them come help me get ready. I mean there are only so many times that I can hear Tris tell me how many times she made Em cum this weekend. The answer is eleven. I know this because every five fucking minutes Tris reminds me that in 48 hours she made Emori cum in six different room, with only her tongue and two fingers.

I'm pulling on a pair of black pants that fit my legs almost too well, when she asks me, “So what did you do? I know Em left to get you on Sunday night, and you obviously behaved enough to land a date with blondie one day later.” I'm grateful that Clarke has this thing called fall break.

Turning around to see her sprawled wide across my bed, I smile. I smile and think about how we ate tons of Egos and popcorn, really more carbs than I would normally eat in one weekend. The way she would watch me watching the television. But the best part, the best part was the way her hair felt when I convinced her to let me braid it.,

I’m quiet as think about being in Clarke’s world. The simplicity of it all, even though the kitchen ended in an almost brawl when I announced I was throwing away all the pots and pans and buying her new ones. But seriously they were shit.

“Well?” Tris probes, and she even pokes me with her damn toe. I hate feet. Well, not Clarke’s feet because they are freakishly tiny. Like she is tiny but her feet are so little that I like to see how my hand is like the same size. I’m grateful that Clarke is a girl and I am a lesbian, because otherwise she would have a tiny penis.

I laugh out loud at this thought, and I am having a hard time trying to get it together.

“I saw Harry Potter for the first time,” I supply trying to change the subject but Tris doesn’t buy in.

 “That is not what is so funny but seriously you said that like you just lost your virginity. How have you never seen Harry Potter? No wait, laughter first, then the anti-wizard explanation.” Tris states, and she is sitting up. Her smile is bright and she clearly wants to know what is going on in my head.

I sit on the bed and start pulling on the red calf length boots with no heel. I already tower over Clarke; I don’t need to make it worse. I laugh again as I try to explain. “So she has like really tiny feet…” I laugh again. “I was just really grateful she is a girl… because…”

“Oh my god! She would have such a little dick!” Tris exclaims clearly on the same page as me.

Emori’s voice breaks into the conversation as she returns to the room, “Who has a tiny dick. I mean mine is huge so we must not be talking about how much Tris screamed as she took it.” I gag. Why they have to tell me these things is beyond me.

“If Clarke was a dude, she would have a tiny dick. I mean just think about it. She is so little!” Tris says as Emori leans over her and presses a kiss to her lips. Tris is pulling Emori down on her and they are far too close to fucking on my bed.

I throw a shoe at them when I see Tris wrap her legs around Emori’s body. “No!” I scream as though I am scolding a dog. “Bad friends! I already witnessed your first orgasm; you will not have one my bed!

Emori is waving me away, and her lips are sucking another mark into Tris’s neck. The sound is so disgusting, and I feel like I may never be able to sleep in this bed again. “I mean it! Get off my bed!”

Emori pulls back, not at my demands but because her phone was ringing. She pulles it out, and answers it. “What’s up?”

I can’t hear what is said, but Emori is up and grabbing my remote. She turns the TV on and switches the channel until that fucking show is on. I hate this show, and sure enough there I am. I’m there on the screen as the room full of sleazy reporters are replaying Tris screaming at me and slow motion as the soda flies over the front of me. Then they freeze. They freeze on the waitress’s slap across my face. And _fuck! fuck! Fuck!!!!_

 I grab my phone and see I already have a text from Clarke. A text from Clarke telling me she doesn’t think going out is such a great idea. _Fuck!_

My ass hits the ground, and I feel the room tilt on its axis. “Nine,” I say trying to get a grip on myself. The word hangs in the air above me, but it helps. It helps because I know where I am and where I need to get to. I need to get to a one, so I close my eyes. I close my eyes and hold my breath.

             Nine is bad

         ‘cause it means

   I am losing control.

Eight     is better but

                 not by much.

               Seven makes

               every gulp of

               air easier. No,

                 still not  there.

                 Closer, I think.

               Maybe  I’m at

               a six, making

               me closer  to

               the goal. Five,

               and a  breath.

             Four is  close

               Within  reach.

               I reach  for  it.

           The three is  easier to grasp

          and my lungs feel freer once

          at two. I hear Em. I’m, “one.”

“Lex, what is one?” Em's hands were rubbing my arms, and for once I don’t feel the need to lose it even though she is touching me.

I whisper, “Freak out meter. I was at a nine, but now I’m a one. I‘m a one and I am chill, and I can fix this.”

I grab my phone off the bed. Finding Clarke in my recent calls log. It’s the first one listed. The phone rings twice, but its not her voice that answers. _“She’s freaking out_ ,” the female on the other line says.

I figure it must be Raven, and I tell her, “I’m a one. Tell her I’m a one.”

I hear her relay the message, but Clarke still isn’t on the phone. Raven is still talking to me. She tells me, “ _Look Trikru, there is a lot more to Clarke and why this is not good for her. You should maybe back off until this just blows over. She has a lot that she hasn’t told you…”_ and I stop listening. 

I feel the pressure rising and I am definitely moving back up the scale, but I breathe. I know there is more to Clarke than she has told me. The woman is a whirlwind of mystery and undisclosed secrets.

“Just tell her to give me a chance tonight. Tell her I promise not to embarrass her. And we are going someplace without cameras,” I try.

The other girl is not dumb though. Maybe I am, but Raven clearly is not. _“It’s 2015 Trikru, everyone is always walking around with a camera, and she has a lot to lose.”_

I hear in the background, _“SHUT THE FUCK UP, RAY!”_ Followed by, “ _She needs to know this, Clarke. You can’t hide something this big.”_ Then there’s a struggle by the sounds of it. Broke words like “ _human_ ” and “ _my story.”_ I can’t make any of it out though, and the phone line goes dead.

I look at Tris and Emori. “I need to go.” They are nodding and helping me gather the rest of my things.

Tris leave the room, and comes back with my black clutch and she is tucking my keys within. Emori is helping me get my arms in my blazer. As my hands grip my bag, I stand still for a moment.

“Do I look okay?” I ask. They are both nodding, and Tris moves closer. She reaches over and pinches my cheeks.

It hurts a little, but she says, “Now you have color in your face again. You looked like a pasty Italian for a moment.”

I laugh, and they follow me as we make our way to the front door. I throw it back and almost catch a fist in the face.

Costia.

She is standing on my porch and is about to knock. I don’t understand, because last I heard she was still in jail for assaulting Echo. I can see the hint of a fading bruise under her eye. Apparently jail had not been kind to her.

“Cos,” I say. “I’m sorry but I don’t have time. I have to go.”

She steps in my way though, and her eyes are angry. Her voice reminds me of Anya, as she holds her hand to the door frame, and says, “You leave me in jail after I try to protect you, and now you are just going to rush past me like I didn’t spend the last three weeks in jail for you, Lex?”

I know she is right. I fucked up. I should have helped her, but I couldn’t bring myself to let her back in my life. I mean I let her in once and she help make me a monster. “I’m sorry, Cos. I’m sorry I didn’t bail you out, but I was scared of being near you. You let me do horrible things to others, to myself, and to you.”

“SO what you are just going to run out to fuck a new chick. Cheat on my sister some more,” she taunts me. Normally it would work, but she doesn't have the chance for her words to really sink in. She doesn't have the chance because Emori is my knight in shining armor. 

Emori steps between us then. Em is even bigger than me, so I know she is intimidating. She uses her body to move Costia forward. Tris steps in behind Emori and she too creates a path for me to leave.

Costia is yelling, but honestly I am not listening to her poison anymore.

 

> I should have known that Costia was just another piece in a long string of upsets that night, but my only concern in that moment was getting to Clarke. I needed to be there for her like she had been there for me. In looking back though, it was this night that shifted things for us and made it not only possible but necessary for Clarke to let me in.

~~~~~

Clarke's house is fully lit when I arrive. The drive was seriously thirty minutes out, and I wondered if this works maybe I could convince her to move closer in the city. I mean my yard is huge and we could teach Rexa how to swim. I bet she would love that.

I smile at how plausible I can see Clarke in my future, that falters though when I hear Clarke yelling. Not just yelling but screaming.

“I will never fit into her world. I mean what happens when she finds out what I have done. How fucked up I am? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Raven is clearly trying to calm her down, but she was yelling just as loud. “You’re not original! I swear you act like you’re the only woman to ever-“

“Don’t you even fucking say it. I’m going to fix it. I’m going to fix it all. I have worked so hard to make everything right. I’m going to get her back!”

“I know, Clarkey. I know. You have come so far. But you can’t just pretend and hope that Lexa will deal when you tell her. You need to tell her now. This is huge. You can’t hide this type of thing, especially when everything you have done is to make it possible for her to be in your life again.”

They must be talking about her mom. I mean, she said her mom gave her up because she fucked up. I don’t understand why she would not be able to tell me this. I raise my hand and I knock on the wooden door.

Raven opens the door after a moment, and she just looks at me. Her eyes are cold, and it is clear I was not supposed to come. But I did because I need to be here for Clarke. I need to be right here, right now.

“I need to see her,” I say. But Raven just folds her hands over her chest and she doesn’t move.

Her words are solid. Solid bricks building a wall in the doorway trying to lock me out. “She needs to be with someone without your history. She can’t have this kind of publicity. You’re lucky her face didn’t end up in that video. Just leave her alone.”

I shake my head, “No. I’m her friend and she needs me right now.”

“She needs you like a hole in the head. You can ruin everything she has worked for,” she tells me. And it slices into me. Deeper than I think she intends it too. I hold my ground though. I hold me ground, and meet her gaze.

“I don’t ruin everything,” I defend, but my voice is weak. It’s weak because Raven can see through me. She knows how badly I have fucked up.

Clarke is behind Raven then. She is behind Raven and she looks stunning. Her dress is royal blue and fitted to her perfectly. “Raven, stop.”

“You need to be honest with her,” she says, and her eyes don’t move from mine.

Clarke moves away from the door then, and I hear her fall to the couch. “Fine let her in.”

Raven moves just enough so I can enter. I can tell she is not happy about me not leaving. I don’t care. I don’t care that she is angry. I step into the house, and Rexa is stationed between Clarke’s legs, her head across a beautiful thigh.

Once I am inside, Clarke turns to Raven. “Leave us,” she says, but Raven moves to the chair and sits down.

“Not until I know you tell her the truth and I decide if she is worthy.” She looks me over, and says, “Careful how you behave right now, because this could determine if I blow you up or not.”

I kind of flinch back because who threatens to blow someone up? I mean, we're in the desert. You take them out and bury the body in the desert here. You don’t blow someone up.

I look at Clarke. She is staring at Rexa and her hand is resting just behind the dog’s ear. I move closer to her then, but she holds up a hand. She is asking for a minute. She is asking me to just stay still. She is also giving me the opportunity to flee without much interference.

“She’s right,” she says slowly. “I need to tell you something.”

 


	14. Too many to count

**~Clarke~**

Everything is swirling. The memories, the words. All of the ways that I have messed up everything. The ways that I am just like my mother. The way that I am not enough. I am not even sure where to start.

Lexa stands before me, and she looks even more beautiful than when she stalked into my classroom. Her outfit is simple and elegant and we contrast beautifully between blue and red. But what is holding me is her eyes. They are searching me. Trying to read me before I can tell her everything.

“My father died when I was 13,” I say. It's the simple information. It’s simple because he died and left me alone. Left me alone with Abigail Griffin. “I didn’t know that the woman I thought was my mother, was actually my step mother.”

Lexa doesn’t move to the couch, instead she sits on the coffee table in front of me. Her hand reaches out and she scrapes her fingers over Rexa’s side.

I look down again, as I start to confess. Confess the things I should have said but instead chose to hide behind that kiss. The kiss that told Lexa so much but so little. The way I have always been. So much but so little at the same time. Some much mess, and so little hope at making things better.

I take a deep breath hoping that I can get it all out quickly. Hoping to get it out, but I know when she knows she’ll walk out the door. She won’t want what I am hiding. No one can really understand the cycle that I am a part of unless they are lost in the motions as well.

I look to Raven and she nods. She is pushing for me to be honest, but it’s just so hard. It’s so hard to admit all the things I have done. All the people I have done. All the mistakes that I made.

There should be an easier way to tell this. Like maybe I could just write it all out so I don’t have to watch as her face twists in disgust. When she realize I am nothing more than a slut. A stupid slut that let her think she almost raped me, when I just let her. I just let her and willingly started to walk that path of helplessness again.

I want to blame Abby, but I can’t. Abby tried. I fucked up. But where I am going to go is going to make her look like the bad guy. But I know. I know I am the bad guy.

“I was 14 when she told me the truth. She told me after I almost burned the house down. I was smoking and the cherry fell off. I wasn’t paying attention and it caught my bed on fire. The fire department came and they saved the house. Most of my stuff was destroyed, but she was so angry. She yelled at me. Told me she was done with my bullshit. Told me that I wasn’t even hers so she didn’t have to put up with it.”

I run out of air, but I am not even close to being finished. It’s just so much. So much to tell, and it hurts too much. My hands are shaking, and I worry that my whole body will start soon. I look up at Lexa and ask, “What number are you at?”

She swallows, and says, “Three.”

Three is surprisingly low.

I continue, because I know no one is moving until I tell it all. Until I tell her the truth.

“She gave me up. She said I wasn’t her problem anymore and Marcus was a friend. He was good at deal with troubled teens. So I went to live with him. It’s where I met Raven, and our brother John. I was so angry with her. She had always told me she was my mother. I never though to ask about being born or stuff like that. It didn’t matter. But suddenly it all mattered because everything was lies and I couldn’t tell what was the truth.”

Looking at Raven, I say, “Ray made it better, and I fooled myself. I thought I could keep her in my life, so we slept together. But Ray wasn’t gay. She was trying to make me feel better. And she met someone. I was alone again and I fell. I feel into a bottle and pills and parties. I fell into bed with many. Too many to count or even remember.”

Her hand moves and it is holding mine. It’s so warm and steady. I think its steady at least in comparison to mine that was still shaking. I know I have to tell her. I know I have to let it out.

“Please don’t hate me,” I say.

Her head is shaking, and she says, “I could never.” Then she follows with, “I have done my fair share of fucking around.”

I sigh, and say, “I’m not done yet.”

_~ Six, Almost Seven, Years Ago~_

_Abby sat on the other side of the table. Raven was holding my hand, but it wasn’t good enough. Because Abby’s face was so red, and she was glaring at me. I was sixteen and pregnant. That was the final blow for Abby._

_“I guess you really are your mother’s daughter,” she cuts into me. Her blade is sharp, and she had been wielding it quite effectively over the past few years. “I mean you can’t keep this child. You’re a mess.”_

_I placed my hand over the small bump that was already present. I hadn’t noticed that I have missed a few periods, and I thought the incessant vomiting was due to the vast amounts of alcohol that I had consumed. It wasn’t until my pants wouldn’t fit that I realized something was wrong._

_“So what are you going to do?” she asked. Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. She stared at her hands. They weren’t my hands like I had always thought. She was a stranger in a mother’s body. Like I was a soon to be mother in a child’s body._

_I swallowed back my tears, and I laid out my plan. “I was hoping you would take care of it, just until I can prove myself at being ready. I will finish school, Marcus said if I work hard then I can be done next year and graduate as a junior. I can get a job and a place for us to live. If you would just take it for a little while.” It was a fat chance, but she had once said she always-wanted kids and couldn’t have them. She had been a good mom. I was the one that fuck up._

_She sighed and shook her head. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. She was saying no, and Marcus had told me he wasn’t licensed to have an infant in the home, which means I would have to go to a group home for mothers or give my kid up for foster care._

_“Where is the father?” she asks, and I feel it like a punch in the gut. I don’t know who it is. I have had so many partners, many which were gone before I even got their name. I don’t answer and she knows._

_Her eyes are huge and hurt, “I thought I raised you better, Clarke. But no, you get knocked up and dump your kid on me. That is ridiculous.”_

_I’m crying then. I’m crying because she is right. She is so right and it hurts because I screwed up the chance she gave me and instead I completed the cycle. I am going to have to abandon my child. Leave it fatherless and motherless because I can’t even take care of myself. How the fuck am I supposed to care for another living being?_

_I move though, and I am on my knees at her feet. I am on my knees and begging her. My head is in her lap but she doesn’t move to comfort me. “Please, Mom. Please give this kid and me a chance. I can be better. I can and I will be. Just please don’t make me do to it what she did to me. Please.”_

_Her hand finds my hair then. It finds my hair and she is running her fingers through it. Just like she did when I would cry over being picked on at school. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry. I will make it right.”_

_Her fingers raise my chin, and she is looking at me. She is looking at me, and I can see the pain in her eyes for me. She did love me. She loved me, and I had fucked it all up._

_“You must go to college. You can’t support this kid on minimum wage. That is the deal. You go to college. You get a house. You become stable and then, only then will you get her back.”_

_I nod. I nod so fast, because she is saying yes. She is saying yes and I am going to make it all right. I am going to be better than the woman that ditched me._

_~~~~~_

Lexa looks to Raven, and she nods. She is affirming that what I just said is the truth. I wait then. I wait for her to get up and walk out of the door. The bolt from this mess that I live in. I have come far, but after five years of parenthood, Mom wasn’t eager to give her back to me.

> I was trying, and I had done what she asked, but there was always something else. Something else she needed from me. First it was car, and then it was parenting classes. She wanted counseling, so I did that. I was almost done with them, but then she wanted the room set up with a kids bed, and it was so expensive. But I was trying. Once the room was set, she said I could have weekend visitation. At this point, I only had supervised visits two days a week and holidays.

She is so quiet, but still there. It’s making me nervous, because why doesn’t she just leave? I mean I can see she is struggling with something, but why doesn’t she just leave.

My hands fall to Rexa and I hold her. I hold the one constant. Lexa isn’t going to be a constant. She is going to get her courage, and she is going to walk out the door. She doesn’t need this. She doesn’t need me.

“What’s the child’s name,” she asks, and my head rockets up. She is looking at me, and she doesn’t look scared. She doesn’t look scared, and she is asking for my child’s name.

“Jacquelyn. But Jacky for short,” I say. “I named her after my dad. His name was Jacob, and everyone called him Jake.”

She licks her lips, and she reaches over and takes my hands. Her green eyes are so honest, as she says, “That’s a beautiful name.”

I nod, and I feel a bit lighter. Her response was unexpected, but it was simple and she didn’t seem to be freaking out. Not like I’m freaking out.

Raven interrupts us though. She says quickly, “You can’t be in her life and pulling your bullshit. She is going to lose everything she has tried to do, if you keep fucking up and she is seen by your side.”

Lexa’s eyes don’t leave mine. Her thumbs run over the backs of my hands, and she says, “Clarke, I promise. No more stunts. No more bad press. I will clean up my life. I will do whatever it takes to help you get your daughter back. I am not running away. I want to help you be happy.”

Raven sighs, and it is cleared she is annoyed, “You don’t get it, Trikru. Abby sees her with you, and it doesn’t matter how nice you are now. You already showed the world that you don’t take anything seriously and when you want to crash and burn you will bring everyone down with you.”

“Raven!” I yell, but Lexa is shaking her head and she is up on her feet. She is standing tall and strong, and her eyes are fixed on Raven.

“You don’t know me,” she says. Her voice is almost a growl, and Raven is up on her feet in an instant. It’s clear that neither is going to back down. I start to get in the middle but Lexa is holding out her long arm and is stopping me. Blocking me from Raven.

Raven laughs though. Her laughter is painful to hear and so dark. Her strike that follows is not gentle, rather a full-fledged attack on Lexa’s character. “You protect her now, but tried to rape her less than a month ago. You say I don’t know you, but I have seen the remnants of your cyclone like life. You swoop in unannounced, destroy everything in sight and then just run away and hide, until your next melt down.”

Lexa’s jaw is tight, and she stands against each hate filled blow. Once Raven is done, Lexa takes a step forward. Using her height to her advantage, she stands over Raven, forcing her to look up. Carefully, she states, “I own my mistakes, and there are a lot of them. But I would never do anything to cost Clarke her child. I could make one hell of an ally. But if you want to see me as an enemy the only person that gets hurt is Clarke.”

I can see her posture soften some, just enough to be not a threat. “I want to help, Raven. I want to support her, and be there for her. She needs support. Please don’t ask her to turn away someone that actively wants to help her achieve her dreams.”

I am stunned. I don’t know what to say or do. All I can do is look at Raven and plead silently for her to back down. For her to see that Lexa wants to try and I want Lexa to be there. I want to be given the chance to be more than just a teenage tragedy.

“Ray, please,” I whisper.

Raven sighs. She moves one-step closer. She may be smaller, but I know she is not scared of Lexa. She says something to her that even though it’s quiet I cannot hear. It irks me that she won’t just say whatever it is; however, Lexa nods and turns back to me.

She holds out her arm. Her demeanor is lighter. It's confusing how quickly she seems to have shifted modes. She says, “We have reached and agreement, so now will you accompany me to dinner?” She adds, “and maybe over dinner you will tell me about Jacky.”

I swallow and glance over to Raven. She nods, but doesn’t say anything other than, “I will be here when you get home. If she lays a hand on you that is even short of wanted, I swear I will gut her on the front porch.”

I smile, and Raven smiles back with enough attitude to suggest that she isn't joking. She smacks Lexa’s firm ass that causes her to jump and glare back. “Get out of here!”

I take Lexa’s arm, pulling her attention back to me. I take a step back, and make it a point to look her up and down. She is dressed in all black with just scarlet boots for a pop of color. “You look amazing,” I tell her, and I see the color rising in her cheeks. She touches them momentarily and laughs.

I quirk an eyebrow at her, and ask, “What’s up?”

Her laugher is infectious as she explains, “Tris said I needed color and pinched the hell out of my cheeks before I left. I guess she under estimated you ability to make me turn red.” Her smile is huge and she adds, “Also she told me to tell you she thinks she earned another $20 since she made Emori peak eleven times.”

My mouth drops open. I want to say something snarky, but eleven. _Like who in the hell… Shit._ I look at Lexa, and her lips lean in and she whispers, “Sometime I say we shoot for twelve just to piss her off.”

Raven gags behind us, as I feel the blood rushing up my chest, then neck, and finally settling in my cheeks. “I heard that, and you better not be even shooting for one tonight. Or so help me I will end your fight.”

Lexa waved a hand behind her, “Yes, yes, tonight on the porch with a knife and then blow my body up. Got it weirdo.”

I smile and Raven puffs up her chest before nodding in agreement. “Glad we understand each other.


	15. Please no press

**~Lexa~**

After everything tonight, I am glad that I picked out a small restaurant. It was quiet and few people knew of its awesomeness. The people within were always low key, which makes it one of my favorite places.

When we enter, the place is mostly dark. The hostess says a simple hello and leads us back to the table that is mostly hidden. It's a booth like table that could fit two more, but it was one of the few tables I can fit comfortably while still giving Clarke legroom.

The low light, helped Clarke shine a little brighter, and for a moment I just have to stare at her. Luckily she is busy going over the menu, so she doesn’t notice the way my eyes are going over her face, memorizing the little clef in her chin or the tiny mole above her lip. I’m going to kiss her there later. I look at the small diamond stud in her ear, and decide that I need to kiss her just to blow that.

Where to kiss Clarke Griffin becomes my focus. Two days since she let me touch her. Two days since I got to feel her lips for what I want to consider the first time, and I feel like I could do this. I could do this whole thing with her. Be that person that helps her raise that little girl. Be the person that helps her make her dreams come true.

I imagine Clarke moving into my house, and us building a room for Jacky. Maybe a nursery some day. If Clarke wants that. We could have huge Thanksgiving dinners and family Christmas mornings. My imagination is going wild, and I wonder if Jacky looks like Clarke. If she has the same blue eyes. If she does, it will be the end of me. There is no way that I couldn't love a miniature Clarke.

I always wanted kids but Anya was not in favor. That was okay because I had Anya. But with Clarke. With Clarke I could have it all. I could have everything, and play ball and be more that Lexa fucking Trikru.

She looks up then, and I get lost. I get lost in those wide eyes that just beg for acknowledgement. I reach over and pull her forward just enough and press my lips to hers. Her mouth forms to mine. It's wonderful and filling, and everything is perfect until the booth seat shifts as more weight is added.

When I look up, I see the face that I didn’t expect to see until next season. Her eyes are cold and dark with anger. I hadn’t seen her since she came and threw the papers at me. The papers that I refused to sign because she was my wife and I promised her forever.

“Lexa,” she says with no hint of venom. She sits on the other side of Clarke. Blocking her in the booth, meaning whatever she is about to do it is going to make a scene that she wants Clarke to witness.

I look her in the eyes, and say, “Please don’t make a scene, Anya.” Clarke shrinks a little further into the booth beside me, and I can tell she is trying really hard to be invisible. Her head is down and she has her hair blocking most of her face, incase anyone is filming us. I fucking hope no one is filming this, or I am going to have fucked up her life just like Raven said I was going to.

Anya reaches over and lifts Clarke’s chin. I don’t know why she lets it happen, but she follows the guidance and looks at Anya. Her dark eyes study the girl at my side, and Clarke looks so scared. Anya examines her, even tilting her head like she is a child. She smiles at her, and it is surprising kind. Like she isn't mad at Clarke. But really she has no reason to be angry with Clarke. 

The waiter chooses to come over at that time. Anya releases Clarke's face, and smiles at him. He is holding the bottle of wine I ordered in advance, but he is holding three glasses.

_No! No! No! A drunk Anya is an angry Anya._

 “Good evening, are you ready to order?” He asks as he pours the glasses, setting one before each of us.

Anya looks to him and says, “I’ll take the chicken and gnocchi. Lexa will have the eggplant parmesan, and for you dear?”

Clarke’s voice is so soft and fragile, as she says, “The macaroni and cheese, please.” My heart is breaking at how defeated she sounds. This was supposed to be our night. It was our first date and Anya was hell bent on ruining it.

The waiter nods and leaves the table when Clarke finishes ordering.

“She’s pretty, Lexa,” she says, pulling out the napkin and putting it over her lap. She is clearly determined to stay, and I need her to leave. I need her to see that she is making Clarke uncomfortable.

I sigh and reach down to take Clarke’s hand. I give it a gradual squeeze and tell her, “It’s okay. She doesn’t want any press either. This would hurt her too.”

Anya laughed, and took a sip of her wine. She lets is rest on her tongue before swallowing. Her eyes rise with a fury, as she states, “Because you haven’t tarnished my name enough. You think I wouldn’t chose a little revenge and the poor girl is just collateral damage.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, but no that’s not what I need to know. “Better question, is how did you find me?”

Anya smiles and waves her phone in the air, “Homesharing. I can see your location whenever I feel like it.”

Clarke looks at me, and says, “Can you let me out, Lex. I think I should call Raven and ask her to pick me up.”

Anya waved though, and said, “There will be no press. Stay blonde girl. Enjoy this last dinner with me and my wife. It will pose for more interesting conversation.” She takes another drink before adding, “Plus you’ll get to see what you are getting yourself into.”

Clarke looks at me and I move to give her the space to leave. I hold out my hand, and say, “Come, we will find someplace else to dine.”

Anya’s grip on the glass is hard, and she states, “You leave and I will follow you. I will find out who she is and I will blast my cheating wife and whoever it is she,” and she points to Clarke, “will become TMV news by tomorrow. They are so kind. I am sure they'll paint her out to be quite the home wrecker. Or just another one of your whores.”

The first tear falls and Clarke brakes. I failed. I failed to do everything I promised, and now I am hurting her more. I am hurting her, and this is just another moment of how I only torture her with my presence.

Clarke doesn’t move, just hangs her head to try and hide the tears that are falling down her cheeks. I sit back down. We don’t have a choice because Anya never makes a promise that she doesn’t follow through on. This is the best I can do to protect her. To be here and shield her from Anya’s wrath.

“An, please don’t do this to her. Take it out me. I know I deserve it. But please just leave her be,” Begging with Anya isn’t new. It is always begging with Anya.

The waiter arrives with the food then. We all stay quiet as each dish is set before us. Anya is the first to pick up her fork and pop a bite into her mouth. She smiles with the bite, and says to me, “I have missed this place.”

Clarke doesn’t touch her silverware. I can only guess that she is still trying to get a grip on what is happening, and I just want to run away with her. It’s moments like these that I regret my life choices. My choice to be a face people recognize. If I wasn’t I could take Clarke and runaway right now.

Anya reaches over and forks out some of Clarke’s food and tries that as well. She let’s the flavor linger, and hums. “It’s good, but too country for me. Are you country?” But before Clarke could answer, she says, “I’m sorry I didn’t get your name. You should tell me, since Lexa probably won’t bother to try and even remember it tomorrow.”

Clarke face rises, and she sits up a little straighter. There are still tear stains on her pale cheeks, but her eyes are clear. Her shoulder’s back, she reaches forward and takes her fork. Turning to meet Anya’s eyes, she says, “My name is Clarke, and Lexa is well versed in it; therefore, I highly doubt she will be forgetting me.”

Anya’s chin tilts a little and she smiles. “She’s got fire, Lexa. I like that. “ Turning back to Clarke, she propositions her, “Too bad you chose her. Because I think you and I would have had fun together. Maybe if you change your mind, I should leave you with my number.”

Clarke looks to me, and she smiles. It's weak, but it's there, and she says, “I think I have chosen quite well actually.”

Anya doesn't miss a beat between bites. “I thought so too, but you know she cheated on me and I’m not country. I doubt you will have much chance holding her down, unless you enjoy your woman perfumed with other girl’s vag on her fingers and in your bed. You don’t have any sisters do you? She seems to like to fuck sisters and other girls at the same time.”

I glare at her. How did I marry this person? Had she always been this bitchy? But the answer is no. She was always cold, but never cruel. I did this. I did this by fucking her sister.

No one said a word. Clarke takes a bite of her food and looks up at me. I know she loves mac and cheese. She told me eight times yesterday. I even called earlier to make sure they still had it on the menu. “It’s really good,” she says, and I smile. I hate that Anya is here, but I will take this little moment. She puts her fork in and holds it up. It's an offer and that’s huge. It's huge because I know that Clarke doesn’t share food.

I start to take the bite, but Anya scoffs, “She won’t eat something off your fork. Don’t you know she is the biggest germaphobe. You should see the girl wash dishes. Its intense.” Clarke seems to understand.

I look at the blonde, and see her pulling away her fork. I shake my head, “No, please. I would like to try it.” She is so uncertain, so I reach over and guide her fork towards my mouth. I take the bite and stare at Clarke. She is waiting for my response.

I wipe the corner of my mouth with my thumb, and I smile. My eyes just on her. “That is really good.” She nods and returns to eating.

Anya looks over Clarke again, and I can tell that she is trying to figure her out. _Good luck!_ I smile to myself because seriously Clarke is a legitimate onion, and I know even after her opening up tonight, I am not even close to figuring her out yet.

“Clarke,” she starts again, “what is it you do?” I'm not sure what Anya is searching for, but I would be lying if I didn't say my freak out better was hitting a 7.

“I am a high school English teacher,” she answers. Her words are short, and I can tell she is just trying to remain civil. I can’t think of a time that Clarke wasn’t trying to be civil. Even in the most desperate moments, she really is able to hold herself together well.

Anya smiles again, and I am confused. I’m confused because it's a real smile. No anger, just a smile that she would give a fan that said they appreciated her playing. Anya takes another drink, and she looks me over again. “She’s nice, Lexa. And she does something that matters, unlike us. You should leave her alone. I like her and I don’t want you to hurt her too.”

I’m shocked by her confession. So shocked the fork that is heading to my mouth freezes. She approves of Clarke and she wants me not to hurt her. But she is one hurting her.

 _It's you that's hurting her_ , and I close my eyes. I close them and just don’t try to argue with that fucking voice.

Anya is rustling then though. She is rustling through her purse, and as I open my eyes I see the legal papers sitting before me. Clarke’s eyes are on them, and I take them tentatively in my hands. The edges all have little tabs on them, telling me where to sign.

It’s the divorce papers that I refused to sign month ago. Not wanting Anya to be rid of me. Not wanting her to be separated from me so completely. Her eyes are back to business, and she points to the paper.

“Sign them, Lexa,” she commands. I hold them in my hands, and I am shaking a little as I see the seal of Arizona stamped into the page. “Give me a divorce so that this dinner date with dear Clarke is not just another moment of infidelity for you.”

Clarke is looking at me, and I can’t read her expression. I look at Anya and I hold out my hand. “Give me a pen,” I say. She hands one to me that was already ready, and I move through each page. I sign the lines where my name is printed under. Each and everyone. I double check the pages to make sure that I have signed them all.

Anya takes the papers back, and places two hundred dollar bills on the table. She folds her napkin and places it next to her plate. Smiling at Clarke, she says, “It was very nice to meet you, and I mean it. Please be careful. You seem like you may be better than her usual whore, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Clarke whispers, “Thank you, but I am not a whore nor am I usual.” Anya smiles, leans forward and places a fucking kiss directly Clarke’s lips. Like seriously, she just kissed her.

Clarke pulls back and her poor face is so bewildered. Apparently, she didn’t expect or appreciate Anya's advance much.

Anya stood from the table, and looks me up and down. Her words are short, “I expect your stuff out of my house by the end of tomorrow. The Telsa is paid off, and per the agreement it is yours. But the house is mine and Costia will be moving in tomorrow.”

_Wait what?_

“Wait. What?” I say while getting up from the table.

Her eyes shine, as she holds up the papers. “You just gave me the house, and you kept the car. We split what is left in the bank account, which I drained yesterday to pay for my sister’s bail, since you opted to leave her in jail. I paid for the damages to Echo’s bar and she has agreed to drop the charges against Cos. I also paid off your car.”

She turns to leave, but stops. Her body returning to me, “You get to start over, Lexa. Don’t try and fight this. Just figure yourself out, and don’t hurt that girl. She seems too good for you.”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to say because she is gone and Clarke is watching at me. She is watching me so carefully because I can feel her eyes on me. I can feel them watching me as I pull out my phone.

I pull it up the bank app, and log into my account. The account that I yesterday had over a hundred and forty grand in. The account that held everything I was supposed to live off of for the next year while I await the start the of the new season. Years of playing overseas to create enough of a backing so I could take off this year. Take this year off to spend with her.

But the account held two thousand dollars. Anya left me two thousand dollars and took my house. Took my house and everything I would need to start over.

I hear Clarke’s voice after I feel her hand on my shoulder. “What’s your number, Lex?”

I scoff, and nearly choke. “My number! My fucking number. Are you serious. My number is 10. Its ten and two thousand. Its ten and two thousand, and nine. Nine months before my next contract. Its ten, two thousand, nine, and fucking zero. Zero fucking chance for another contract to leave the country. God damn it.” I hit my fist on the table, and I feel her jump. I feel her jump behind me, but her hand is still there.

She says, “Take me home, Lexa.”

I turn to her, and I see she is scared. She is scared, and I have frightened her again. _Damn it!_

I get up and I wait for her to exit the booth. We leave the money on the table, and I exit the restaurant following Clarke. Her arms prickle in the cold air. I see this and I pull off my jacket and toss it over her shoulders. She doesn’t look at me, just faces forward as we walk to my car. Her heels click against the ground, and quietly, she says, “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. Because there is nothing else I can say really.

She stops then. She stops in the middle of the parking lot, and she just looks at me. She looks at me and I can tell she is making a decision. She is deciding my fate, and I know. I know she is going to tell me no more. She is going to tell me that I am costing her too much. Causing her too much pain.

I close my eyes and wait. I wait for her rejection. I wait for that life I thought I could have with her disappear, because in two fucking days I fall for this damn woman and her unknown kid, and I imagine a life together, and I am so fucking stupid. I should change my name to Lexa Stupid.

> No, scratch that: ~~Lexa Stupid.~~

Lexa fucking Stupid has a much better ring to it.

“Do you own pots and pans and that stuff you were bitching about yesterday?” Clarke asks. And _what?_

I open my eyes and I look at her. Her face is set, and she says again, “Do you own pots and pans and that stuff you were bitching about yesterday?” Apparently she thought I didn’t hear her.

“Yes, they were a wedding gift, and Anya left them when she took her stuff,” I state.

Clarke nods. She nods and her left cheek is sucked into her mouth. She is chewing on it as she is considering something.

She huff a breath, and I guess she came to a decision. “I don't loan money. I don’t even have money to loan. But here is what I have. I have a spare bedroom filled with kid’s toys and a queen bed. You bring pots and pans, and you cook. You live in that bedroom until next season. That is all I can do. I can’t help you get a place because my credit is still weak. I can’t give you money because I have to buy a kids bed and I still have to get my car fixed.”

She stands in the parking lot when she finishes and just stares at me. This is huge. This is huge and complicated and messy, and I could get so much worse. It could get ugly, and I barely know her. I haven’t seen her crazy.

 _But she has seen yours_. I shake my head quickly because did the voice just say something helpful? The voice is never helpful. Its mean, and its rude. Never helpful.

“Unless, you would rather move in with Emori and listen to her and Tris go at it eleven times,” she is smiling when she says it.

I nod to her, and her brows crinkle. It’s adorable that even her confused face if so cute. She tilts her head, and says, “You want to move in with the banging bunnies?” She leans back some, and follows with “Okaayyy then.”

I step forward and I capture her lips. I capture her lips in mine. One of her hands are on my cheek and the other my waist. It’s not how I planned our end of the night kiss. I didn’t plan on our first date ending in a Uhaul either.

When our kiss breaks, I press my lips to her forehead. She holds on to me, and we just stand still for a moment before our feet move side to side. Its completely junior high, but we shift our weight and dance to sounds of downtown Phoenix.

She leans back, and says, “We are not getting a turkey baster.”

> I should have known that nothing would be that easy. I should have known that blowing off Costia earlier that night was a bad idea. But I didn't think about it. And the result was nothing short of everything Clarke asked me not to do to her. Because Costia caught it all on film when she was supposed to be waiting in the car for Anya. She caught the whole scene and within a week the video was on Youtube. 
> 
> The worse part was we didn't know until Abby found out. We didn't know until Halloween, when I was finally supposed to meet Jacky. We didn't know that we were walking into a shit storm as Clarke's hard work was tossed aside, and her past thrown back in her face.
> 
> The youtube video was titled, "Clarke Griffin or Lexa Trikru's New Whore." It was nothing but a lie, but it didn't matter. It couldn't matter when there was a kid in the middle of it all.


	16. You scare me

**~Clarke~**

 

Tonight is special. Tonight is Halloween. It’s a big deal. Like a super super big deal. During our time together, I learned that despite being very gay Lexa was also raised under a sect of the Christian faith that discouraged her participation in events like Christmas with pine trees and Santa Clause, and especially Halloween. She only gave in on dressing up for Halloween when I explained how important getting to take Jacky trick or treating is to me.

> This was the one holiday that Mom let’s me and Raven take Jacky around without her direct supervision.

Lexa tries to get into the Halloween spirit, but it became clear earlier that day that she was clueless. I convinced her to carry out a Halloween tradition with me. We watched  _Hocus Pocus,_ and snuggle on the couch. Something that was still a building point to our roommate/dating relationship. I must have fallen asleep at some point though. 

I don’t know how we ended up in the position where I was laying on top of her, but when I woke it was to the sound of her heart beating steadily just under my ear. I laid there for a long time just listening to her being alive. Laying there, I decide that this is one of my favorite sounds in the world. Right up there with Jacky’s laughter and Raven singing.

Lexa stirs, and I try to hold as still as possible. I don’t want to give this moment up. Her hand reaches up and I feel her fingers carding through my hair. The pads of her fingers rub my scalp, and I let out a tiny whimper. Its meniscal, but I can’t help it. I love the way her fingers feel on my skin.

“Clarke,” she says and I shake my head. I don’t want to leave this moment. I don’t want to go back to reality for just a few more minutes.

She laughs, and I feel the rumble before the sound exits her lips. Her laughter always comes from her belly. Its always strong and this time it shakes my head. I wiggle, and growl lightly, “No, Lexi. Not yet.”

“Ugh,” she huffs. I know she hates being called Lexi. I can’t help it though. I love it. I love that she lets me call her the pet name even though she hates it.

I lean my head back and see the bottom of her jaw. I reach up and trace the smooth line from her neck to her chin. The angle is so fitting of her face. “You’re beautiful,” I tell her.

Lexa doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to because her heart tells me it makes her happy. The beat escalating, creating a rhythm of what I think is happiness. Shifting my head, I press my lips to the exposure of skin, just above her sternum. I kiss her there, because it’s as close to her heart as I can get.

Pulling away, I hear the beat again. I think it may be faster. I realize though that she isn’t breathing. I sit up some, holding my weight on my arms.

“Am I crushing you,” I ask.

Lexa’s breath lets out. She smiles and her laughter rattles through her chest again. Her smile is sweet, and she reaches up pulling me back down. “You weight like one ten max, Princess.” She has never called me by my teenage nickname before, and for some reason I wish she wouldn’t. I wish Raven and John would let it go too. But I have given up on them.

I smack her in the stomach, “Not you too.”

“BoomBoom calls you Princess. Why can’t I?” she asks honestly. I smile at Lexa’s nickname for Raven. That one is funny. There is nothing funny about being called princess as an adult.

I twist and push myself up again. I shift until my legs are straddling hers and I stare down at her. “John and Raven started calling me Princess because my mom’s rich. It wasn’t cute then. It sure as hell isn’t cute now.”

Lexa just studies me. Her eyes are soft, and I have seen this look before. She looks at me like she is trying to peal back the protective coat I try to keep up. I feel it pealing under her eyes though, so I move.

I move, but her arms are so long nad quick that I am pulled back into the crevice of the couch where her body traps me. Her lips are on my head and her leg tossed over me. I snort a laugh as her fingers dance over my sides. Wiggling I try to get free but her weight holds me in place.

“Lek-sa,” I whine. “No tickles.” But Lexa’s talented fingers continue their assault. My body jerks and breaths pant out.

She laughs, as she demands me to, “beg, Princessa.” The addition of the “a” on the end makes the name less condescending, and I have to admit I kinda like it from her.

“Please Lek-sa,” I say, but she just laughs. I know that is not even close to begging. Her fingers are a little stronger, but they are less abusive, as I plead,  “Puh-leazzz. Lek-sa. I’ll do anny-thang!”

I am squealing, as she flips us and I find her between my legs. Her fingers continuing their assault but they had made their way under my shirt. Her fingers touching me across areas that no one has touched since before Jacky was born. And fuck! fuck! It’s no longer just tickling, and damn it did I just moan?

Lexa’s fingers hault, grasping my side with one hand as she holds her body above me with the other. Her eyes are a little darker and voice a little deeper, when she says, “Anything Princessa?”

I nod slowly, glancing down to her heavenly fully lips. Its just a glance. Just a glance that has me feeling that heat pooling. The heat that I so often have taken care of myself. 

She leans down capturing my moan in her lips. Her tight abs pressed between my thighs. I relax my muscles allowing her body to sink deeper, only the thin yoga capris separating her body from mine.

My hips raise pressing against her as her thumb traces the underside of my bare breast. I’m grateful as her tongue licks the rook of my mouth that I haven’t changed from my sleep clothes yet.

My hand reaches down and grazes the smooth skin of her back. My nails raking against her skin. I grind against her and feel her moan in my mouth.  Her hand raises so she is cupping my breast and I arch my back into her touch. My body is screaming for her to touch me. To take me in the most primal of ways. To own me so completely, but my breath catches and my head catches up.

I pull away from her lips and she leans back allowing her hand more room. Her thumb grazes over my nipple that is perked and clearly visible under the tattered white t-shirt.

I moan again, but shake my head. I shake it softly, and her hand retracts back to holding me just on my ribs. Her long fingers meeting from the center of my chest to my spine. I close my eyes, and she pulls back farther.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away,” she gets up from the couch and moves towards the hallway. Her shoulders are slumped and her movements slow.

I lay on the couch trying to catch my breath. The heat between my thighs is heavy and I swear I can smell my own arousal. It has been so long since I let anyone touch me, and I look down. My shirt is up and the purple marks of pregnancy have faded but are still there. I pull my shirt down and rub my hand over my stomach. After six years, I am still not comfortable letting anyone see me.

I close my eyes. It has been seventeen days since Lexa moved in. Seventeen days since we entered into this twisted new living situation. The adjustment to living together was rough to say the least.

Anya had said germaphobe, but she was inaccurate. Lexa wanted everything to have an order. No, Lexa needed everything to have order. Which is not how I live my life. I have my own systems like in my kitchen that now I have to open every cabinet to find something. I mean seriously, she wont even let me keep the toaster on the counter. The one appliance I use most often and she keeps it in a cabinet.

_~ 12 Days Ago~_

_Work had been frustrating to say the least. Chalk it up to too many students showing up to class without having read the pages that they needed to for us to move forward. Needless to say, my whole lesson plan was blown for the day._

_Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, but Lexa and I had spent a good portion of the night dealing with meltdown 7,963 over not being able to replace her specialty shampoo, which is seriously $48 a bottle. Who the hell pays that much for shampoo? We won’t even start on the amount she wanted to spend on conditioner._

_Okay, maybe there were not that many meltdowns but it was exhausting to say the least. It was little things like this that caused Lexa the most distress, as she had to learn how not to be rich._

_I had some sympathy. I mean, I remember going through that. Remember being told I was going to share a room with Raven. I was an only child, and now I had to share a room with a girl that literally covered everything she touched in something dark, oily, and unwashable._

_Walking into the house, I was looking forward to what ever Lexa had managed to construct from our limited ingredients. I didn’t find dinner though. No, what I found was Lexa seated in the middle of piles, upon piles of my books. Every last text pulled from the text._

_Looking at the ground, I felt my sense of self being stripped from me. Lexa messing with my kitchen was frustrating but my books was my time line. The path of my reading since my father’s death, catalogued by each book. Each book placed in order of when I have read it. And it was destroyed._

_Destroyed by the flustered brunette, who was repeating the alphabet to repeatedly. “G, H, I, J… K… there you go,” she says and she places Never Let Me Go on a pile of other books._

_“What do you think you are doing?” I say dropping the stack of short stories in my arms to the floor. The papers slide over the dented hardwood._

_She looks up with a broad smile and gestures to the various piles. “I figured I had time so I sorted them by your little tag, and now I am alphabetizing them by author’s last name so it’s easier for you to find them.”_

_Her smile falls when my first tear falls. I drop my purse and step through the books tripping on the stack closest to the hallway. The books fall across the floor, but I don’t stop. I don’t stop until I am in my room. The ony place that Lexa hasn’t tried to take over._

_I throw myself onto my bed and my body convulses into sobs. I hear the soft rap and the door opening quietly._

_“Go away,” I cry out._

_Her footsteps approach though. She walks over to my bed and I feel the mattress shift. I bury my face into my pillow, and try to calm down._

_“Clarke,” she whispers, “Please talk with me.”_

_“I can’t Lexa,” I say. I know most of it is muffled by the pillow, but I don’t have the courage to tell her to her face._

_I feel my breathing start to steady, but I still feel like my world is tumbling over like a snowball gathering in speed and size as it rolls._

_I roll over and look at her. “I can’t do this,” I say again. “I can’t have you here changing my house. Changing the things that I have created.”_

_Her face is defeated, eyes looking over the frayed quilt covering my bed. “I didn’t mean to. I will put them back.”_

_“You can’t just put it back,” I say louder than is necessary. “That was my life and you just destroyed it. Destroyed my system because it wasn’t good enough for you.”_

_My tears are falling again, and my voice is only getting louder as it fights it way out of my chest. “I’m never going to be good enough for you. And if I can’t be enough for you I will never be enough for her. And I tried. I tired so hard to be everything that everyone wants of me.”_

_Lexa stands and move to the doorway. Her body broken from my words. Broken because I ruin everything I touch._

_I throw myself back on the bed. I lay there for a long time when the mattress shifts. Rexa’s wet nose nudges my face. I roll over and hear a huff from the living room. Rexa lays her body down along side of mine, and her heavy head on my chest. Scrunching down, I try to kiss her head, but she is too far away._

_I head a huff and a crash in the living room. Rexa is up as fast as I am. Moving through the doorway, I see a tear stained Lexa knealing in front of a shattered frame._

_“You are so fucking stupid,” she mutters to herself as she picks up the pieces of glass. I grip Rexa’s collar to keep her walking through the glass._

_“Lex,” I say, but she is still shaking her head and her talking to herself._

_When she looks up at me she is hoping the glass in her hands and there is a line of blood running down her hand. “Oh, Lexa. You’re bleeding.”_

_I turn Rexa, and push the hunk of dog into the bedroom before closing the door behind her. I hear Rexa scratch at the door, but I make my way to Lexa._

_I pull her up and drag her into the kitchen. We stand over the trash can, and I have to force her grip from around the glass. “I can’t fix it,” she says, and fresh tears begin to fall. “I tried, but I can’t remember where I took them from.”_

_I turn her hands over and dumb the glass into the trash. I look over the small cuts of damaged skin, and shake my head. “They’re just books, Lex. You can’t hurt yourself over books. Your hands are more important than that.”_

_Lexa is shaking her head, as the warm water runs over her hands. The water turns red as it circles the drain. Her chest is wavering._

_“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” I’m not sure what else to say. They were just books and she hadn’t destroyed anything. Except the frame._

_Lexa doesn’t look at me. Her eyes trained on her hand, a finger running over one of the deeper cuts. I press on it slightly, and she hisses. Looking up, I look into the greenest eyes I think I have ever seen. The color brighter in relation to the black smudged mascara that coated everywhere but where it was supposed to be. Three black lines extending down her cheeks from where the tears had carried it._

_I smile softly because looks similar to a raccoon. I reach up and wipe away the stains, and lean forward to kiss her cheek._

_She pulls back though. Her eyes still sorrowful, and pained. He rhea dis shaking as her eyes fall back to the counter and she takes her hand from mine. “I promise I won’t change anything else. I promise to keep my stuff in the room, and I won’t move anything else. I will put the books back, just I can’t do it alone. I wasn’t paying enough attention when I took them down.”_

_I reach over to touch her, but she pulls away. This is new. She never pulls away when I touch her. Everyone else gets brushed off and an evil glare, but I was always allowed._

_“It will be fine. We can just throw them back on the shelf,” I say, but its not fine. Its not fine because I can’t fix them and neither can she._

_Lexa’s eyes shoot up, and she is glaring at me. Her hand gestures out to the bookshelf. “If it was just fine and we could just throw them up there, then you wouldn’t have melted down and thrown a tantrum over me trying to help you.” Her eyes are dark then, anger over taking the sadness that had been present only moments prior._

_I back away. My body trying to become one with the pantry behind me. I don’t know how to deal with angry Lexa. Sad broken Lexa was one thing. Angry Lexa reminded me too much of angry Mom._

_Lexa takes a step towards me, and her arms are flying in different directions. To herself. To the kitchen surrounding her. To the living room._

_Her voice is loud and I can see her lips moving. I just don’t hear what she is saying. I don't’ hear it because I am concentrating on the pitch in her eyes. Her inner demon, coming out in full force._

_“Are you even listening,” she shouts at me, and I realize that she is so much closer now. Her body less than a step away, and I am scared. I hold up my hand and I beg._

_I beg her to just step back._

_I beg her to just take a breath._

_I beg her to just stop yelling at me._

_She looks down at me, because instead of back she came forward. Instead of breathing, she appears to be holding it all in. Instead of yelling at me she is screaming._

_“Are you always this unfucking grateful when someone tries to do something for you?”_

_Her hand hits the cabinet door above me, and I drop. I drop to my knees and cover my head. Hiding from her. Hiding from the world. Hiding like and ostrich, believing that if I can’t see her, then she can’t see me._

_But she must see me. She must see me, because her body suddenly swoops down and she is cradling me in her arms._

_Cradling my body as is shakes in rhythm with her apologies. Endless words of “I’m sorry,” and “I don’t know why I just lost it,” and “I promise I will never do that again.”_

_It’s too little._

_It’s too scary._

_It’s too much._

_“You need to leave,” I say. My hands pushing at her. Pushing her away from me. She doesn’t get to touch me. She doesn’t get to scream at me and then hold me. “Get out of my house.”_

_Lexa backs away. Her movements are not slow. They are fast, and they are calculated. In three steps she is out of my kitchen. I hear her cross the living room in just a few more. I hear the door to what should be Jacky’s room, but instead hold her stuff._

_I stay on the floor, listening as the drawers of the dresser and then the door of the closet are opened and shut. Lexa’s huge feet pounding into my floors as she gather the minimal things that she chose not to lock away in Emori’s garage._

_I don’t know where she will go. It bother’s me that I even care. I should care about her like this. I shouldn’t care after she just screamed at me, and almost hit me. I shouldn’t care._

_But I do._

_I get up from the floor and move to the doorway. She is taking the final steps to the door, when the floor creaks under me. She turns with two suitcases in her hands an a duffle bag over her shoulder. Looking at me, she sets the suitcases down, and reaches into her pocket._

_Lexa pulls out her keys and twists the ring in her hand. Without stepping forward, or even looking me in the eyes, she sets the small bronze key on the coffee table. Her words quiet and low. Another dip in Rollarcoaster Lexa._

_“I didn’t mean for any of this.”_

_Turning away from me, Lexa grips the front door and twists. The door is open when I say, “You really scared me.”_

_Lexa’s breath falls from her lungs. Her shoulders give a little more, as I see her head staring into the falling darkness outside._

_We both know she has nowhere to go. We both know that her parents had apparently sided with Anya and believed that she needed a lesson in tough love. We both know that Emori and Tris won’t put up with her shit, each now higher standing in independence than she._

_Because Lexa doesn’t know how to be on the bottom. And that’s the thing. That’s just my problem when it comes to Lexa. I know._

_I know what it means to have no place to go. I know what it means for the world to continues to swim, while I struggle just to float. Something that should be easy. But its not. It’s not because at the end of the day there is barely anything left in the account, if that. At the end of the day, I missed another meal, followed by a bedtime story. I miss it al, because I can’t figure out how swim. So I keep treading, and hope. Hope that one day it will be okay. One day someone will stop and explain the breast stroke that seems to get them to shore. Fuck the breast stroke, I wish someone would teach me how to dog paddle._

_And I know that is how Lexa feels in this moment._

_And I know that is how I manage to try again._

_And I know that is probably stupid._

_I’ve never been known for my long term planning skills though._

_So I take the fourteen steps to where she stands. I take the steps to where she is waiting for me to kick her out. I take the step to touch her, and this time she doesn’t brush me aside. This time when she turns, her eyes are green and defeated again._

_Her voice says, “I’m at an eight.”_

_I nod and tell her, “yeah, I think I am too.”_

_Her bags drop and I wrap my arms around her neck, when she leans down and wraps hers around my waist. Her knees hit the floor, and I swear the house shakes under our combined pain._

_“I’m sorry,” she says again. Her face resting a top my bust._

_“I’m sorry,” I answer, her cheek find her head and resting it there._

_“I just wanted to do something,” she says, and I nod against her head._

_I confess, “I kept them in the order that I read them. Each a memory leading back to my dad.”_

_“Can we fix them?” she asked. And I shake my head._

~~~~~

We stayed like that until Rexa’s whining became too much to handle. We stayed like that, even though Lexa had bruises on her knees for kneeling so long. We stayed that way until it felt like our heart beats synchronized and there was some form of unspoken understanding.

The rules that we didn’t voice, because the failed so miserably last time. But rules of not to change things in the other’s life without discussing it first. Which was where I was at now. This next step. Sex.

Seven years of touching myself. Seven years of promising me the next would be the last. Seven years of promising I wouldn’t put myself in this position until I had Jacky and we were in a situation that we didn’t need anyone else, so we would get to choose.

I hear the water running in the bathroom. When I get up from the couch, I see her leaning over the small sink, splashing water over her face. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and her body barely fitting in the tiny room.

I lean against the doorway of the room, as she looks up and her eyes rack over the me in the mirror. They weren’t angry, only lost in their own world.

“Can we talk?” I ask, knowing that I needed to tell her where I’m at. She shuts off the water, and pulls the hand towel from the bar. Drying her face, she nods.

We make our way back into the living room and sit on the couch facing each other. I’m surprised when she starts. Her voice steady as she explains why she left.

“Anya was my first,” is the first words out of her mouth. She twists her hands over each other. “I meant my vows when I promised her forever. And I know its stupid, but even when I was being a whore… I never let anyone touch me. I told myself as long as I saved that part of myself that maybe we could work it out. So I never let them touch me and I never did anything that wasn’t with my hand or a toy.”

I sit quietly absorbing this information. She is quiet, and I am wondering if that is my que. Carefully, I ask, “How long as it been?”

“The night before she left was the last time,” she admits. I think about it, doing the math in my head. Six months. Really that doesn't seem that long in comparision, but then I think of the number of girls I have seen on her arm in in various articles online.

I breath out, and say, “It’s been seven years.”

Lexa’s eyes shoot up, and widen as she looks at me. I nod as I inhale deeply. “I haven’t had sex since I found out I was pregnant.” I see her eyes fade out as she goes someplace in her head. She shakes her head as she comes back to me. I laugh and turn away from her. As I bring my legs up to my chest and lock my arms around them, I say, “I know. It's a long fucking time. Raven keeps threatening to break in just to eat me out so I don’t forget how to do it.”

“Why?”

My brows raise, “Maybe she just misses the tastes.” I lean back and turn my head to smile at her.

Her eyes are a little darker, but she shakes her head, “No, not why Raven wants to eat you out. I have a vivid enough imagination as to why she would want to do that.” She waits a second and then asks more directly, “Why haven’t you had sex since then?”

I huff out a chuckle, and stare at the photo of Jacky and me on her second birthday that Lexa had framed for me. I see her smiling chubby face that is covered in cake as she points to the camera.

Pointing to the photo, I say, “That’s why.”

“You don’t have to remain celibate to get her back, Clarke,” she tells me.

I laugh at the thought. At the thought o f having sex with someone. Maybe I have forgotten how to have sex, or what it even feels like. But I know that what I am doing is the right thing for me. That I know I need to know who I am before I let someone into my world.

I turn my head back to Lexa, and I sigh. Looking at her, I ask, “Number?”

“5.”

I nod as I chew on the inside of my cheek. Moving over, and straddle her lap. Her legs extend and her hands rest just on the tops of my hips. I look at her, running my eyes over the face I have spent so many years memorizing from a far and weeks up close.

I release my cheek. I can tell she is about to say something but I raise my finger to her lips. When her lips are closed, I nod and instruct, “Don’t say anything for a minute, because I am super scared and don’t want to lose my nerve.” She nods.

Carefully, I reach down and run my fingers over the tattered edge of my shirt. It’s one of my favorites, and its wear shows it. I know she can see my nipples through the material but that is not the goal. The edge of the shirt has small worn tears, and I stick my little finger in it for a minute.

“I don’t have the body that I am sure you’re use to,” I start with. Her head is shaking, but I hold up my hand just slightly and she holds still. “I don’t know how many women you have been with that have had a child.”

I pull my shirt up and over my head. The cool air nips at my now exposed skin, but I sit still letting her eyes wander over me. I run my fingers over the scars running vertical over my sides. “On some women they go away, but mine haven’t completely,” I explain.

Her hand raises and her eyes ask. I nod. Her finger traces the one closest to my navel, and I take a deep breath. These are me, and she should know what she’s getting into. Looking up, her opens her mouth, but I shake my head. I’m not done yet.

“I’m not saving myself, but I am. I want to be steady. I want to be stable. I want to be an adult and have my kid before I let someone else in like that.”

Lexa’s hands come up and press into my skin. The tips of her fingers touching over my spine as she runs her thumbs gracefully over the evidence that I made Jacky. I study her, as she maps the skin of my chest. As she looks over my nipples and the way that my breasts are a little larger than the average.

“You’re beautiful, Clarke,” she whispers. She’s talking to my breasts and I laugh. I have caught her more than once staring at my chest. Her eyes grow as I realize that they are bouncing in her face as I laugh. I wrap my arm over my nipples, and she looks up. Her mouth has fallen in a small pout.

“I was behaving,” she tries to appeal, but I shake my head.

I shake it because if I don’t get my shirt back on or her lips happen to fall to my chest, I know this talk will be for nothing. Because I want her to touch me. I want to feel her thumb running over my breast again. I want to feel her lips wrapped around the other.

I pull my shirt back into my lap and twist it trying to figure out which way is the front. Her hands come up and she turns it. Why does shit always fall into place when someone else is doing it, making me feel like an idiot for it not being that easy.

Lexa holds the shirt up and I raise my arms. I hold them up as she takes one last look, before pulling my shirt back on. Her hands press my hair out of my face, and she pulls me in for a soft kiss.

“I want you,” she whispers. I give her this. She was patient through my story, so I give her the chance to tell me hers.

Fingers trace over my back as she presses my body into hers. I relax into her touch, as she speaks.

“I want to be just me when we take that step. And I’m not yet. I’m not me, I’m still married. I need that final nail in coffin of the marriage I murdered before I can feel… I don’t know. The word isn’t safe, but I would like to talk safety when we get to that stage.”

I sit up some, and I squint at her. My head tilts and I ask, “Do you have some kinks that I need to know about?”

She smiles weakly and her eyes fall to my stomach. Her voice is very over a whisper, as she says, “I am going to need you to take the lead.”

I feel the smirk spreading across my lips and spread to show my teeth. Her eyes lift and she is shaking her head. “Please don’t make fun of me. I just like it when a woman takes control.”

I nod, and I try to school my smile, but I fail. I fail so I lean forward, aiming my lips for just past her ear, as I smile through my words. “Don’t worry baby. I’ll lead you straight to the edge only to drive you crazy before pushing you over,” in the huskiest voice I can muster.

I feel her body jerk as her hips jump into my core. I try again, “You tell me when you’re ready, Lek-sssa. And when I’m sure, we’ll jump together.”

Her hands come up my back and I feel her lips pressing against my throat. She growls, as she says, “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

I lean back, and laugh, “Growling is for Alpha’s Lek-sa, and I am pretty sure you just admitted to being an Omega.”

Lexa’s eyes grow, and her mouth drops. She looks over me and then quietly asks, “You know the a-b-o-verse?”

I point to myself, and laugh. “I’m an English teacher. Of course I know this random stuff. The question should be, why my dear Lexi do you know it?”

Lexa stiffens as I nip at her pulse point. Her voice faltering, as she explains, “I spend… a lot of time on planes… and in college buses… I read a lot. There is a whole fandom to me having an alpha dick.”

I sit up and laugh. Not quietly. No, I laugh heartily, and I when I open my eyes I see she is staring at my chest again. Putting my finger under her chin, I raise it, but her eyes remain fixated still on my chest. “Hey, I’m up here.”

Lexa shakes her head. She inhales deeply and then lets it out with the word, “Sorry, but I know what they look like now… and… fuck… I want them.”

I laugh again and pull off her lap. I call back over my shoulder, “I can’t believe you read fan fiction about yourself. You’re such a perv!”

Lexa stands up and follows me back into my bedroom. “I’m not a perv. I am just taking an active interest into what my fans think of me.” Her arms wrap around me and pulls me back into her. Leaning down her lips next to my ear, she explains, “Some of it is hot, and primal. And I mean I don’t know if I could be your Alpha, but I will always try to protect you Clarke.”

I turn in her arms and she looks down at me. Her eyes so serious as she asks, “Will you be my omega? Be my mate?”

I reach back, and pull her by the ass into me closer. I smile as I ask her, “Lexi Trikru, is this you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

She nods slowly. Her face still stoic and waiting for my answer.

Standing on my tippy toes, I press a kiss to her lips. When I whisper “yes,” she picks me up by my ass and we are on my bed. Her body pressing into mine once more. But this time her hands don’t wander over my sides. This time we just kiss and grind into each other. Both aware of where the other is at.

Emori’s voice breaks the quiet of the house, and our make out session is busted when Tris launches her body onto my bed and positioning her body between Lexa nad me. She goes as far as to growl at Lexa who is looking very irritated.

Tris turns back to me, her eyes warm and full of life. “Don’t worry, Clarke. I’ll protect you from that animal.”

I laugh so hard that Tris kinda jumps. She had missed our conversation, but in just too well. Lexa pulled Tris away from me, and pinned her to the bed. Her face over Tris’s completing the look of wanna be Alpha Lexa. I think about how this twisted fantasy that Lexa has would play into our lives, but Raven is in the room and Lexa’s eyes identify the new threat.

I reach over and scratch behind her ears. “It’s okay Lexi. I can protect myself from these fool no need to try and be the largest dick in the room”

Emori snorts, and says, “Lexi must have told you her alpha fantasies!”

Raven’s eyebrows shoot up, and she laughs. “You fantasize about having a giant dick that hooks into a woman like a dog. Damn Trikru, I knew you were a bitch but this is taking it a little far. Freud would have had a field day with you.”

I worry for a minute, because Raven’s comment could have been taken as insult to the injury of Emori’s big mouth. But Lexa laughs. She laughs, and the other’s join in.

Yeah. Tonight is going to be a good night.

I stand up and start pulling the costumes from my closet. I hand Raven the blue and white gingham dress with sparkly red heels. She looks it over, and asks, “Why do I have to be the murder?”

“Because, given the chance you look for any way possible to blow people up,” I answer.

I toss Tris the scarecrow costume, and she looks please. I’m still holding the Tinman costume that I made from aluminum foil and the yellow leotard for the lion. I start to hand the leotard to Emori, but then I quickly shift my hands.

As Lexa takes the costume, she squints, “What the hell am I supposed to be. The yellow step-child from the blue man group?”

I laugh and say, “No, I figure you would live out your alpha fantasy as a lion and be king of the jungle.”

Lexa twists her head and I see her smile. “I like this Wizard of OZ thing. Maybe sometime we can watch the movie.” She leaves and all of us are still shaking our heads. We were learning quickly how truly deprived Lexa’s pop culture background information was.

Emori leans down and asks, “You going to tell her the lion is a fucking pansy.”

Shaking my head, I just smile and pop of p of my “nope.” I retrieve my Glinda costume from the closet.

I’m Glinda 'cause my kid didn’t want to be Dorothy from _The Wizard of Oz_.

Nope, my kid wanted to be Elphaba from _Wicked the Musical._

Apparently that was appropriate for a five year old.


	17. Playing Fair

**~Lexa~**

Tonight is a big deal. Clarke probably added a dozen supers before the words big deal, when she was trying to explain to me why I had to wear a costume. I mean its not like I have never worn a costume before. When I was a kid, I may have had a small obsession with princesses, and Disney. But Halloween was always a church night and Bible study.

I don’t understand why I have to dress up to meet Jacky, but Clarke at least let’s me be the lion instead of the ball of aluminum foil. I know she said it’s called the Tinman but Emori looks ridiculous.

I’m in the bathroom trying to pull on this stupid leotard, and seriously it is pretty damn tight. I mean, I can’t even wear chonies without them showing in this thing. I stand in front of the tiny mirror and duck down to see myself. I look like a giant yellow blob, not like a pinche lion. This is not ferocious.

“I look stupid,” I say through the door. But all I hear is Clarke’s laughter. Maybe she planned this as punishment for being such a pain in the ass.

I open the door, and see Tris dancing in the living room with Rexa. Her painted face reminds me more of a fucking clown, but she looks so happy. Emori comes in and steps in. Rexa seems grateful back to be on all fours, and Emori pulls Tris into her aluminum body. They dance slowly in a circle. I feel like I am intruding on a special moment between them but I can’t pull my eyes away.

Emori turns Tris out and pulls her back in, earning a small laugh from the girl. With Emori’s front pressed to her back, Tris leans back into her. They really look happy. Happier than they ever were separate. Emori’s silver face is whispering something to Tris, and the younger girl’s eyes close.

My laughter irrupts them when I see Raven step out of Clarke’s room in the knee high gingham dress. I mean seriously she looks ridiculous and it makes me so unbelievably happy.

Raven’s eyes squint and run over me. “Laugh it up. I’m not the one walking around as a pansy ass lion.”

My face hardens. I’m not a pansy. Lions are the kings of the jungle. I look down though and I realize I am not a lion. I am a huge female in a yellow jump suit. I feel the flush rising in my chest, and I pull at the high neck line of the suit.

Raven smiles, and she swings her dress like a little girl. “I’m a child murder, and you are the lion without courage.” I look down again. _What the hell is she talking about?_ But she looks proud of herself, so I yell.

“CLARKE!”

The blonde runs out from the kitchen in a floor length pink gown. Her hair curled even tighter than usual. One look at Raven’s smirk, and her eyes grow wide. I realize that what Raven said was true. I’m not the king of the jungle. I’m a joke.

Shaking her head, Clarke says, “Ray, please tell me you didn’t.”

I know that she made me a coward. That the Raven was right, and Clarke made me a pussy.

I’m not sure what to do so I go back in the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, I try to do it gently. Try to not lose my cool. I have had four days of no meltdown, and I don’t want to ruin Clarke super, super, super big deal night.

I look at my body in the mirror, most of my head cut off because Clarke has to live in the tiniest house ever. The suit is hugging every muscle in my body, and I look fucking stupid.

I reach back and pull down the zipper. The sides peal away, as I strip off the stupid yellow suit. I’m not walking around all night as a stupid fucking cat. No, I’m already enough of a joke. I don’t need even more evidence of my idiocy.

I hear the muffled voices outside, as I pull my sweat pants and my top back on. There is no escaping the voices since they are still right outside the door.

“Why you do you have to be such a bitch?” Clarke asks.

I turn on the tap, drowning out most of Raven’s words. Only letting “not enough,” and “get over it,” through. She’s right, I’m not enough and I just need to get over the idea that I will ever be enough for Clarke. She obviously knows it since she wanted to dress me like a fucking coward.

I can see Raven’s smug fucking smile when I close my eyes. I’m so stupid. Halloween is a dumb holiday.

I splash the water over my face. Knuckles rap on the door, followed by Rexa’s thunderous bark. I hear Tris squeal and the thumping of paws and feet from the other side of the thin wood.

“Lexi?”

I hate it when she calls me that. It makes me sound weak. Like a little girl. Like a fucking pussy. Like the pussy she tried to make me dress like. I keep my eyes closed and try to fight back the feelings of inadequacy.

I try to hold her off, “I need a minute.”

Her voice is soft as she tells me, “Okay, baby. I’ll be right here when you're ready.”

“Just go away,” I say before I can think.

There is nothing on the other side of the door than soft footfalls. The sound of Clarke doing exactly what I asked of her.

I splash another handful of water on my face. I am staring at myself when the door opens and hits me back to the shower. I stumble some, but catch myself on the shower curtain bar. I pull myself back up, but the stupid bar gives and I find myself on my ass covered in the gross plastic.

I am hitting at it trying to get its filth off of me, but it just keep touching me. “Calm down, Commander Douche.” And of course, Raven has to be the one. She must get some sick pleasure out of making me miserable.

The curtain is pulled from and body, and raging Raven is above me. Her eyes are dark and glaring at me.

She points her finger down at me, and says, “Halloween is a-“

“Super big deal,” I finish. I push up from the floor, but she doesn’t move to give me room. Instad she shakes her head and picks up the yellow suit. She shakes it in her fist at me.

“Then why the fuck aren’t you dressed?”

I huff out what little air is in my lungs and then hold me breath. Closing my eyes for a second, I try to decide why I’m not dressed. Did I have a reason really?

Raven steps closer. She’s in my bubble and I don’t like it. I don’t like her this close. Her breath is hitting me and I can feel her body heat, and I DON’T LIKE IT.

I hold up my hands, and say, “I need you to back out of my space.”

She shakes her head, as she tells me, “No can do, because I am going to kick your ass for fucking up this night. She gets one fucking night and she wants to share it with you. She wants to share this with you, and you are being a dick because of a fucking movie made in the 1930s.”

She takes another half step and I fight my need to throw her back into the wall right now. I close my eyes and I try to focus on Clarke’s face, but Raven’s air is making it hard to breathe. I clench my fists, and growl, “Get. Out.”

“Aw, are you uncomfortable, Lexi?” She says and the venom in her voice is so poisonous, that I am seriously going to lose it.

 _Ten. Ten. Ten. Ten._ The voice in my fucking head chants. It’s too happy at a ten. That’s how I know it’s wrong. It’s wrong to put my hands on Raven. I can’t move forward without touching her.

I can’t so I step backwards. I step back into the lower tub. I turn back, and twist the nob. Cold water shooting out of the low showerhead, and dousing myself. The cold water helps balance the bubbling blood threatening to boil over.

“Back the hell off,” her voice says. The voice of my fucking alpha. Because she was right, I would always be her omega.

I open my eyes to see the back of a blonde head standing in front of me. Blonde curls falling perfectly with the flashy tiara poised on her perfect head.

I can see her in the mirror, eyes angrier than I have ever seen before. A crystal blue so stern they could be made of stone. Her hands were back protectively surrounding my bubble.

“Ray, you are my best friend and my sister, but you can’t keep doing this. She knows how important tonight is. If she doesn’t want to be the lion she doesn’t have to,” she says coldly. “If she wants to go in her pajamas or her street clothes. I don’t care. That is her choice and my happiness is not tied to her dressing up. What it is tied to is you being kind to my girlfriend on her first Halloween.”

“Princess, she needs to-“ but Clarke’s hand is up silencing the Dorothy wanna be.

Clarke takes a step forward, causing Raven to take a step back, “One, don’t you dare Princess me. Two, she needs to do what she feels is right. Not what you want so you can feel like a fucking bad ass.”

The water is chilling my skin, as I watch Clarke so completely shut down Raven’s assholeiness. Raven is looking back at me, and she stands a little straighter.

She says, “The lion gets his courage at the end of the movie. He finds it inside of himself.”

I look her over. I look over her straight posture, and the way her eyes are locked on me. Chewing on her words, I wonder if she is trying to help me or hurt me more. The lion found his courage within himself. What the hell does that mean?

I tilt my head, and twist the nope. The cold water too much now. I grab my towel from the rack and pat it over my face. My clothes are drenched, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because tonight is a super big deal. It's a super big deal because I get to spend my first Halloween with Clarke and her daughter. And Raven and Emori and Tris too, but they don’t mean as much on this night. Because tonight is about Clarke and Jacky.

I step out of the tub and close the door. Clarke twists, but I get the door closed in time for her not to be able to stop me. Her hand is wrapping on the door again, and she is saying, “Lexa.” I have my shirt over my head, and I am pulling off my pants. “I’m sorry.” I dry my body, and look at the stupid yellow suit. “You don’t have to dress up.”

But it’s too late because my legs are already in the material. I have it settled over my lower half and am working it up my sides when the door opens. Like why the fuck doesn’t this door lock.

Clarke is standing before me, and her eyes are locked on my chest. Reflexively, I go to cover my chest. She steps into the bathroom and shuts the door. I don’t know if anyone saw me in my half naked form, but no one made any noise.

The only sound in the bathroom was the dripping from the showerhead and the sound of my heart beating. The sound of my heart beating is louder than anything else, because Clarke is taking my hand down from my chest. Exposing my body to her. Giving her the chance to examine what I have to offer. The same as I had earlier as she straddled my lap..

Her eyes raise to mine, and she whispers, “You are beautiful, and I feel like I can’t breathe.”

I don’t hesitate. I take her in my arms. My lips find hers. Hands running up her dress, bunching it so I can get her up. Up to my level. Once I can get between her leg, I reach down and lift her by her ass, and pin her body to the door. Her arms are around my neck, and I press my hard nipples to the sateen bodice. Its so soft and I feel my sex jump further into her. I am rutting against air and her body that is inches over my sex.

Her mouth is slightly open for me, and I take full advantage of it. Sliding my tongue between her lips, and feeling hers meet mine. Stroking me back as our tongues dance for dominance, which I give to her. Letting her control the motions. Her hands twisting in my wet hair.

My ass cheeks tighten as I feel the pulsing in clit. I want her so badly. I want to drop to my knees and hold her tiny frame on my shoulders. I picture her using my hair as her reins, steering me to where she wants me. She twists at the roots, and I feel a jolt of pressure but it feels so fucking amazing. Amazing because it shows me how much she wants me.

My mind is lost in how deep my tongue could plunge into her core. Fucking her in the most intimate way I can process. Giving her my submission as I let her ride my face.

She’s pulling back though. It's not startled, just pulling back from my lips. Her eyes are almost pitch; the blue irises barely eclipsing her blown pupils. Her arm moves so slowly down my shoulder, and when it brushes my clavicle I press into her again Feeling the pulsing return.

It takes everything, I have left not to let out a moan loud enough to scare the house full of guests out the door. I already know they must know, I don’t need for them to hear.

Her fingers graze the side of my breast, and I see her eyes taking in shape and color. She touches just the side, and I feel like legs shake. I grip her ass, and shift us from the door. Placing her on the edge of the counter. The counter that lowers her eye line to my chin. But Clarke is nothing but focused.

Her finger tips brush over the edges ever so lightly, until th smooth pad of her thumb is running around my areola. The skin is scrunched and begging for more. Which, she oblidges . Her head deeping down, and lips locking around my nipple. The sensation running straight to my clit.

And fuck, I wish we hadn’t had the talk today. I wish we had kept our wants, no needs, silent. Because I want to take back my words right now. I want to take back my words, so I can feel her in me as she rolls her tongue over my nipples, just like she is doing now.

 _Damn it!_ I am losing control when she switches sides. Her hand twisting the first, and I think that should hurt ut it doesn’t because Clarke is touching me. Her lips move up and I feel her press her mark into my left breast. Sucking and then soothing the pain with her talented tool.

She pulls back then, and her lips show the hint of a smirk. She whispers, “Now we can both be sexually frustrated.”

I groan, because fuck I am frustrated. I am frustrated and I consider kneeling down and begging for a taste. I would beg. I would plead, right now to dip my tongue between her folds.

I close my eyes, and try to focus on something other than the pulsing between my legs, but Clarke is back to where we were before I pushed her into the door.

“You don’t have to wear it,” she offers.

But I shake my head. I shake it back and forth, and tell her, “I need to be ferocious though. So can you make me look ferocious?”

Her smile is so large as she nods. Clarke helps me get my arms into the stretchy material, then zips me up. I haven’t let her down from the counter, and she doesn't ask to move.

Instead, Clarke tilts to the side and grabs the small plastic tray of paint from the plastic bag that came with my leotard. I watch in the mirror as she shades my cheeks, combining yellows, oranges, and whites. I see my face transform from just Lexa into a stratling realistic lion.

She doesn’t speak while we do this, and we hear the other girls on the outside of the door taking bets on if I was going to come out in the costume, and if who would look properly fucked.

When she adds the final touch, six whiskers that she glues to my face, I realize that she has made it so any photos of me posted on social media tonight would be almost unrecognizable.

She moves over so I can see my face, and she asks, “Feeling a little better?”

I nod, not sure how to explain how fucking talented she is. I just stare at myself and shift my face from side to side.

“I’m not done yet,” she says between giggles.

Pushing me to let her down, she opens the door. The three outside all jump and examine us. Emori wins ten bucks for me being in costume. Tris wins thirty, fifteen from each, for neither of us looking fucked.

Clarke tells me to flip my head over, and I just stare at her for a second. She pushes my head down though and I get the picture. I flip my hair so it sends a cascade of water out of the bathroom all over Raven. Serves her right for sill standing in the dam hallway watching.

The noise of the blow dryer makes me jump, but the warm air brushes over my scalp and I feel her fingers fucking up my curls. It takes me a minute to realize what she is doing. It takes her ten minutes to get it dry and crazy.

When I flip my head over, my hair falls in crazy kinks around my head. Completing the image of the lion. I smile, and I am feeling a little more comfortable and not like a bastard sibling to the blue men.

“Thank you,” I say. I should have said it before pinning her to door. I should have thanked her to defending me. But I guess it’s better late than never. I lean in to kiss her, but she shakes her head.

“No time, Alpha. We have to go,” and I get to see new light in her eyes. Its beautiful, and I sweat I want to live in this version of Clarke every day.

> I learn this look is reserved for thoughts of Jacky’s because after ten minutes at Abby’s house that light vanishes. It vanishes completely lost in an abyss so dark, I still question how Clarke managed to pull from it. It vanishes until Chirstmas where even an evil step mother can’t keep a mother from her daughter.
> 
> I don’t think I have ever seen someone break another so quickly and effectively. I mean people think that what Tris did to me was harsh. That Anya taking my money and my house was cold. These two have nothing on Abigail Griffin’s abusive attack of absolute belittlement.
> 
> I should be sorry for saying these things, but seriously it took months for me to be able to stand Abby after the custody battle. And I am not sure I will ever forgive her for how she treated Clarke.

 

 


	18. Self-destruction

**~Lexa~**

When we pull up, the sun is just fading into the west. The streets were already crawling with children dressed in princess gowns, creeper masks, and other things that my parents protected me from.

The house is huge, and we park in the large circle drive way. When we get out of the car, I look us over, and I have never seen the movie, but we looked pretty fucking awesome. Well, except Emori. She looks like a big ball of tinfoil… so glad I didn’t get stuck in that nonsense.

We are all standing back as Clarke knocks on the door of her childhood home. She turns back to look at me and she is bouncing with this gleam in her eyes that is so bright and alluring that I feel my own excitement growing. My heart pounding like I am taking a foul shot to win the game. Because this is huge. Huger than the fucking trophy sitting at home.

No tonight is bigger, because I get to meet the little girl that I could hopefully make a family with someday. I look over the girl I want to marry someday. I look over the dress and realize it's the wrong color. When I look back up from Clarke’s pink gown, I see the door opening and a small brunette step outside the door.

The woman’s were chocolate brown, and her hair in a side braid. Her tight pants mostly hidden by an over large cardigan that she was holding to her body. Closing her off from Clarke, who moves in to hug the woman that doesn’t do anything but let the teacher briefly encase her. I figure this must be Clarke’s stepmother.

The woman’s dark eyes sweep over the group of us. I stand proud. I want her to know that I am honored to be here, to be at Clarke’s side. Her eyes don’t settle on me for long though. They run over me, just as they ran over everyone else. They are distrusting and it is clear she is not happy.

She turns a disapproving look at the blonde, and shakes her head. I don’t understand what is happening until I hear her speak. Her voice is the same as Clarke’s. The way they combine their words together demonstrates how close they had once been.

“What are you doing here, Clarke?”

I see the confusion cross Clarke’s face. I realize though it's a question to set Clarke up. My poor omega stands uncomfortable under her mothers gaze he runs her hands over her dress. Looking up only slightly, she says, “Mom, its Halloween. I’m here to take Jacky trick or treating.” She gestures to all of us, and explains, “She said she wanted to be Elphaba so we dressed to be the rest of the characters.”

The woman shakes her head though, and I see the light in Clarke’s eyes fading. Her hand is reaching out, but Abby is holding up a cell phone. The phone is tilted horizontally, as the sound begins to play.

The beat is playing as Clarke’s voice comes across the speaker, “I’m a whore.” It repeats the words with the beat, as though this is a remix. I suck in air, knowing that this was an edited version of our first date. Her unedited words following, as she explained, “Lexa is well versed in my name.”

As the music continues, and her words are replayed, I see Clarke breaking. Her hands trembling as she holds onto the phone that her mother has released. The music doesn’t break, but the sound of Echo yelling tells me that clips from our first night together were edited in as well.

Tears are running down her face, and I watch as Raven steps up and puts her arms around Clarke. The blond slumping to the other girl’s embrace. I’m pissed that I didn’t move to help her. I didn’t move to make her feel better. But how could I?

This is all my fault.

The video, clips of all the times I tried to take her out. Times I failed to protect her. I’m collapsing internally, my lungs failing to work the way they should. But something small moving in the window catches my attention, and I feel the ground giving way.

The little girl in green face paint and a big black hat is at the window bouncing up and down just trying to get her mother’s attention her hand is waving. She leaves little green fingerprints on the window, when she pushes off. There is a creaking of the large door as the little girl pulls open the door and bounds out, right into the side of Clarke.

“Mommy! Mommy you’re here!”

Clarke instantly to her knees with the small child wrapped in her arms. The little chubby five year old arms and huge blue eyes tell me without a doubt this little clef chinned child is Clarke’s baby girl.

Cautiously, the little girl pulls back and looks at her tear stained mother. Her small hands touch Clarke’s damp cheeks, and she says, “Mama, why are you crying?”

“You’re mother doesn’t feel well Jacky, so me and Auntie Callie are going to take you out tonight. Mommy is going to go back to her home, and –“ but Abby doesn’t get to finish because Jacky arms are wrapped around Clarke’s neck as she yells.

“Nooo. Noo, Mama. Don’t leave me!”

The weight of my feet is too heavy. My whole body sinking in the concrete below me as Clarke’s holding her baby. Holding that little girl that is begging for her to stay.

Holding her and whispering, calmly, “Its okay, Jack-jack. I know we are supposed to spend tonight together but we will soon-”

Her words are broken though. They are broken and ragged as the little girl wipes her face paint all over Clarke, and huge tears are running down her face. Tears that could flood the desert and drown me. Drown me in the salty water for causing her this pain.

“Mama, noo. Please, Mama! Noo!”

She struggling, and I my vision catches up with my brain as I watch, Abby pulling the tiny girl from Clarke’s arms. Pulling her away from her mother, and taking her back in the house. The child’s screams flowing out the door, as Clarke collapses in a heap on the concrete walkway.

“I want my mommy!” Jacky cries out, and then she is running back through the door. Her tiny body in black is running back through the door. Only to be caught by Raven, and pulled in tightly. Raven is whispering to the girl, and the girl pulls back. Severl more tears falling down her face. But she nods her tiny head obediently.

Abby’s flustered face returns with another woman to the door. Raven glares at her, and set’s Jacky back down on the ground. The child takes a few steps and hugs her mother again. This time she is calmer, and her little voice says, “Don’t be sick anymore, Mama. We do tricker treat later.”

Clarke looks up, and I can tell her is holding it all in. Trying to be strong for the little look a like staring back at her. Her hand cups the little face, and she nods. “Yes, my little witch. We will do tricker treat later.”

The woman, I can only assume must be Callie comes forward and holds out her hand. “Come on Elphie, let’s go fix your make up.”

The child squeezes her mother one last time, before taking Callie’s hand and leading her back into the house. Lead her back past a shaking evil step mother, whose face is glowing red. Turngin around, the woman shuts the door, only to turn back to her step daughter on the ground.

“You… will never… see her again,” and her words shake in rage as she stares down at the helpless blonde.

“Mom,” she whispers but the woman reach out, and the palm collapses against Clarke’s face.

Her voice is venom. A poison so rich and deadly, as she tells the blonde, “Don’t you dare call me that. I’m not your mother.”

And she doesn’t stop. The attack so perfectly angled, “I would never have created a useless piece of trash whore like you. No, you are just like your mother. A poisonous apple comes from poisonous tree. And I won’t let you poison Jacky too.”

Clarke is holding on to Abby’s knees begging, “Mom, I swear. I swear that I have been doing everything you asked. I almost have the bed. Please.”

I move forward and I pull Clarke up. I can’t stand to see her groveling at this monsters feet. I hold her as she continues to reach out to the other woman. Still begging, “I’ve done everything you have asked. Please don’t make me fight for her. We had a deal.”

Abby stood still though. Stood her ground, spitting back, “Fight me! You have nothing to fight me with Clarke. Nothing to fight me with because you are nothing. You have never been anything, and you never will be. Just a fucked up kid that will never change.”

She doesn’t give Clarke a chance to argue. She doesn’t take a moment’s glance to know how badly she hurt Clarke. But I know. I know that at the root of it, I am the cause. I am the cause of Clarke’s tears as she reached out for the broken relationship.

As the door closes, Clarke falls against me. Her chest heaving as she chokes on her sobs. I hold her to my chest, incapable of doing anything.

But Raven is pulling her out of my arms then. She’s pulling her away, as she lays into me. Her tongue a whip whose leather is cutting into my skin with each strike.

“I told you that you’d hurt her.”

And it was too true. She had warned me.

“This is all your fault, bitch.”

Bitch isn’t enough… monster is fits snugger.

Raven’s arms are around Clarke as she starts to guide her to the car. The blonde still crying. Still wallowing in the loss of her child. And in my mind I know that I did this. I did this along with Anya, and along with Costia.

She took my house. She took my money. And honestly, no of that mattered. None of it matter in comparison to this. In comparison to taking Jacky from Clarke. Because this is Anya’s fault too. This is Anya’s doing.

Tris is pulling me to the SUV, and I let her. I let her guide me, and push me into the passenger’s seat. As I look up, I see Jacky at the window. Her tears back as her tiny fist beats against the front window.

Taking out my phone, my fingers tremble but I hold it and I take the photo. I take the photo of the little blue eyed blonde crying out for her mother. I know why I take the photo. It’s not to remember this moment. Its to punish Anya.

My ex is a bitch that wanted to hurt me, but I know her. I know she didn’t know this would happen. She didn’t know that she would cause this much destruction.

So I open the text message screen and I send the photo to her. I send her the photo as Emori drives us slowly through the child filled streets. It only takes a moment, before I get a message back. I get a message from Anya reading simply, “WTF Lexa.”

My fingers hit the screen. Hitting the screen harder each time, I beat out my rage into the message. Into the message that tells her what kind of monster she is.

“You called her a casualty of war, but you are fucking monster you bitch. You are a fucking monster that just lost a mother her child.”

I hit send, but I’m not done yet. I’m not done, because Clarke is still sobbing in the back seat with fuckign Raven.

“You bitch. I loved you and you left me. I gave you everything and didn’t fight you when you fucking robbed me. But this is too much.”

I send that too. I send it, but still I don’t feel like it’s enough.

“She may never see her kid again, because you and your bitch of a sister ruined her life because she was kind to me. She was kind to me after you left me.”

I follow it with, “I’m going to fucking sue you, and when I’m done, I’m going to fucking end your career.”

It’s a threat with little weight, but it didn’t matter. I don’t care what it takes I will fucking fight her. And when I get my money back. I will fight that bitch for that fucking kid.

Anya messages back.

“Lex, I don’t know what you are talking about.” Just one line, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if she knew or not because she hurt Clarke. She hurt Clarke and now I’m going to hurt her. Hurt her in every possible way.

~~~~~

No ones anger has settled when we get back to the house. No one’s attitude has changed. Instead we are all silently grieving the loss. Grieving the loss of a child, some of us never got to the know.

Raven guides Clarke into her room. Guides her through the tiny house, and into the room where she locks away. When Raven comes back, her body is still trembling in anger. Trembling and swearing under her breath.

She looks at me and shakes her head. Swallowing her pride, she tells me, “This isn’t your fault. It’s Abby’s fault. It’s baby thinking she is protecting Jacky.”

I see her turn into the kitchen and let Rexa out. The dog runs out back and Raven follows.

Emori and Tris are standing awkwardly in living room. I look at them, and say, “You guys should go home.” They nod in agreement, but before they leave they each hug me.

Em’s arms around me and squeezing me tightly. She whispers in my ear, “If you need anything…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t need to. I nod to her when she partially releases me. Tris’s hug is less encompassing, she too dealing with the pain of disappointment. I see them out and shut the door quietly behind them.

I stand still for a moment. I am debating if I should go in and see Clarke or follow Raven into the back. Clarke is my priority, so I move to her room. The room is silent though, and I want to give her her space. So I change course and head into the backyard.

The skunky smell of weed hits me as soon as I get outside. I look over and see Raven sitting at the small patio set. Her body leaning all the way back. She brings the joint to her lips and takes a long drag, as I sit down next to her.

She starts to pass, but I shake my head. Raven shrugs and takes another drag. She holds it up, and explains, “When we were nineteen, Princess and I were in an accident. I fucked up my knee, and Dr. Abby gives me a pot card to help me. It helps me block out the pain.” I look down and for the first time I see the brace peaking out from under her Dorothy skirt.

She continues though. Her words like ice, as she states, “That kid is mine too. That’s why I don't like you.”

I squint my eyes and study the dark jaw moving. Her thin arms rest on the metal below them, and she turns her head to look at me. I see the tears gathering in her eyes, as she explains, “I was there when she was born. I was the second parent on every major event. And if Princess chooses you, then where does that leave me?”

“Raven-“ she cuts me off. It’s frustrating that she seems to think this is okay behavior.

“No, Trikru. Hear me out,” and she takes another hit. “It’s not that I don’t like you. I can see you are changing to be better for Clarkey. But if you get to be hear, then she doesn’t need me.”

I think I understand. I’m like the new girlfriend moving in on their family Moving in and destroying their family. It hits me now that if Clarke doesn’t get to see Jacky, then Raven doesn’t’ get to see her either.

Raven is angry that not only I hurt Clarke, but I hurt her. I feel the emptiness spreading as we sit in silence. We sit long enough for Raven to finish the first blunt, and then to pull out another. The air shifts, and I may be getting faded just from the contact. I sit still though, and just let her deal with her pain.

Our silence is broken though when Clarke comes out of the house holding a large clear bottle. Her clothes changed into sweatpants and just a bra. I glance around wanting to cover the blonde. I don't’ want anyone seeing her this bare but me. I remember though that we are completely surrounded by cornfields. As my eyes are only met with the darkness beyond the three foot chain link fence.

I glance over the bottle of cheap Skyy Vodka. The bottle is partially empty, and as she holds it up to her lips, I watch her take two large swallows, wiping her hand on the back of her hand. She moves down the steps, and I consider that maybe the bottle is not that strong, but I can smell it.

I can smell the vodka on her breath as she straddles my lap.

“None of it mattered,” she said. The bottle returning to her lips, as she takes another drink. Part of it dribbles down her chin as she sways just slightly. I hold her steady, and hear Raven sigh.

I wonder how high the other girl is, as her sister bounces in my lap slightly. Her dark, bloodshot eyes boring into me as the small drop spills down from her chin onto her breasts. She shakes them for me, when she sees that I am looking at them. A sickening laugh that reminds me of her loss.

Leaning forward she presses the large tits against my face, and says, “You want them? You can have them.” She laughs again, and I am struggling between thinking with the dick that she swears I am half the time and being the person she needs.

Without warning her bra is unhooked and I am face to face with pink perked nipples. Her breasts shaking in my face as she giggles. A slight hiccup though reminds me of her state.

Shaking, she grinds into my lap. Rubbing her cunt against my abs as I sit perfectly positioned to motorboat those tits. My mind is cloudy with lust, but the war is raging as my concern battles back my sexual arousal.

I struggle, because a part of me wants to take her nipple in my mouth. Take it and suck it into my mouth. I want to suck my mark into the pink areola, as I carry her to bed. I want to strip her down, and bite her tits as I bury my fingers into the water that I felt pooling against me earlier. The desire is growing stronger with every moan she elicits are her core rubs against me.

My hands holding her hips helps with the pressure she is riding me with, and I lean my head back. But I see the lifeless eyes looking at the sky as the tears prickling in the corners.

Raven is laughing then, and see her eyes going over the blonde. She is laughing and saying, “Nice tits, Princess.” Its this moment I see the fucked up kids that realize they just lost their purpose. Raven holds out the joint to CLarke, and Clarke reaches for it. I jump up then. I jump up holding her to me, as I recognize the self-destructive path that she is paving. The alcohol was the first step. Trying to drown. The sex was the next, because she was saving herself and she doesn’t see the point. The joint is the last. A testable drug that she will carry with her, making it even easier for Abby to sever all rights.

So, I’m up. I grip her body to mine, and press my lips to hers. I kiss her, to let her know I am here and I am going to take care of her. Her arms wrap around my neck, and help with my leverage. With her drunken attention diverted to me successfully, I hold her to me by her ass, and I take her to the house. Before entering the, I look back at Raven and tell her, “Sleep in my bed.”

She just waves at me though. I know she is faded and won’t be going anywhere. Just to be safe though, I pick up her keys off the table as I pass. Clarke doesn’t seem to be noticing anything I am doing though, because her lips are attached to my throat. I can feel the mark deepening, but I don’t care.

All I care about is getting her to bed. However, the bed seems so far away. So far as her lips lock on my pulse point and her fingers tug on my hair.

My legs fail me in the hallway, and I press her to the wall. My lips finding hers as her deft fingers twist my nipple through this fucking yellow jump suit. I feel her other hand find the back zipper and without much effort, or fight from me, she is pulling the suit from the top of my body. Exposing my chest and stomach to her. Her mouth finding my nipple as my hips rock against her. Hitting her to the wall. When I go to kiss her though, I see again the hollowness.

I shake my head, then. I shake it and pull her form the wall. It does stop her from grinding into my abs, but we make it to the bedroom, and I drop her on the bed.

Looking down I see her half naked body rosy with heat, and I know the alcohol is masking her pain. The aching that is leaking from her being and seeping into my tarnished soul.

Looking down, I know I could take her now. Take her in her drunken stupor of “yes” and “please fuck me” that she keeps repeating as she tries to climb up me. Her hands finding my breasts again. Kneading them as she sloppily kisses my neck.

Clarke realizes though that I was not playing into her though. So she pushes back. She pushes back and strips the pants from her body. She is completely naked, and she get s on her hands and knees. Her ass up to me. Looking over her shoulder, she shakes her ass up and down. Shakes it as she says, “Alpha Lexa, you know you wanna knot me.” I’m being baited.

But, fuck I do. I want to live out my fucking fantasy. I could. I could bury my fingers in her, and it would be easy. It would be easy and then tomorrow just leave.

I know it would destroy her.

I know it would destroy me even more.

I know it would destroy us so complete there would be no going back.

I want to be more than just a quick fuck to take away the pain. I know this is what I want. No, this is what I need. I need to be more than a fantasy fuck.

So pull out of the fucking yellow suit. I pull it off and I get up on the bed behind her. I get up on the bed and I hold onto her hips as she rubs her fucking soaked cunt against me.

I enjoy this for a minute, and then I pull her up in my arms. My breast naked against her back, as she moves herself up and now me. I pull her hands to her chest, and I twist them together so I can hold them in one hand.

She’s loaded and compliant, so moving her over with me and pulling her back to my front is easy. I control her movement this way, as she realizes what has been done.

I kiss the back of her neck and hold her still in my arms. I am holding on to her, when her “fuck me, Lek-sa” turns to tears again.

I don’t know where she holds all of the tears, but I swear her body secretly pulls directly from the ocean, creating an endless supply of salty tears to coat her face and pillow.

“I’ve lost her,” she lets out.

I press my lips to her head, and I tell her, “No, Klark. We will fight.”

She shudders and her fingers crawl and twist at my arms. But her struggle to release her sorrow is short lived, as her body falls in exhaustion. I hold her even as her breathing steadies.

I hold her even as my phone vibrates endlessly in my pocket. I don’t bother to check it. I don’t care about anything but protecting Clarke from herself in this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my stuff check out my new collage fic with roliver4. It's called: I shouldn't have survived, so thank you.


	19. Together in Understanding

I wake with an all too familiar ache in my head, and the need to find the toilet. Like now. I try to move, but Lexa’s hand is holding my wrists. I try to shake her off, but her other hand comes up and pulls me in tighter.

I want to relish in this moment, but I feel my stomach churning. I cover my mouth, and try to pull out again. I’m going to puke, there is no question. I just don’t want to puke all over my bed.

I tug again, and this time her eyes pop open and she releases me. I don’t stop to stare at her even though she is naked. Lexa is naked in my bed. But I can’t.

I sprint to the bathroom, and fall to the ground. The acid burning as fills my mouth and forces it way out. My stomach heaves and I lunge my face into the toilet. The backlash splashing up and speckling my face. Its disgusting and my stomach contracts again as I think about the vomit blended toilet water on my face.

Her hands are on me though, and her hand is holdin’ my hair back as I heave again. My eyes water, and I feel the sweat gathering on my spine. I try to wave her away, but Lexa doesn’t leave. She just holds my hair and tells me, “Get it all out, baby. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

But I don’t want her here. I don't want her to see me like this. Butt ass naked and kneeling before the fucking toilet. I don’t have the energy to fight her there. I don't even have the energy to pull my face out the bowl so I don’t get hit by my own fucking puke.

I feel my stomach relaxing some, so I shift only slightly, to turn the tap on the shower. Lexa uses her long arms and turns the cold water knob on as well. I am still on the floor, and I know its gross but I lay my head on the seat.

My legs feel weak, and I keep hearing Jacky’s voice echoing in my head. Her begging me not to go as she cries for me. _She was crying because I am so fucking stupid._ Her voice ricocheting so quickly, I swear its going to escape from my head that is splitting. And I can’t let it go. I can’t so I hold my hands to my head, and whisper, “Please don’t go.”

I don’t realize that Lexa thinks I’m talk to her. I don’t realize it, as she helps me stand and guides me into the steaming how water.

I hear her hiss as the water hits her, but the burning makes things better. The burning makes the pain on the outside feel more powerful than that on the inside, and my body’s emotional ph slowly begins to neutralize.

She has on arm around my waist, steadying me. I realize its because my legs are still shaking. I lean my head to the shower wall. The tiles are cool, and make the room sway a little less.

“Lexa,” I say. I can tell she is waiting for something else, but all I can do is watch as yellow paint swirls around the drain. Swirls and slides away, unsaveable. Just like my life.

Her fingers are brushing the hair out of my face, and I feel her lips on my forehead as she turns me. Her hands are so strong, but I don’t think even she can hold me through this. Everything just feels heavy, and I wonder if Atlas every struggles under the weight of the sky. Because right now every molecule in the steam filled air is squeezing me.

Everything tightening, crushing me as my insides try to adjust to this new found pressure. I turn to the side quickly, and my stomach spills another load of bile towards the drain.

“I’m sorry,” I say, but another wave hits me. My legs give and the only thing holding me up is Lexa arm.

Her arm is holding me, when I lean back into the tiles. I lean back and look up at her. Her eyes are warm, and one hand is still on my hip. Still helping me remain balanced. Its like she is the other half of me, and I would never walk again without her support.

I look down, and see the marks speckling her throat and chest. I close my eyes and shake my head. I did that to her. I did that to her, and she was so kind to me. She was so kind of me, and took care of me after I tried to bait her into having sex with me.

Quietly, I say, “Thank you.” Its all there is to say. I know she didn’t cross the line, even after I tried. I tried so hard. Used almost all of my moves to get her to tumble with me.

Her second hand is on my cheek, and she is swiping under my eye. Wiping away vomit and glitter remnants of last nights horror story. Another dose of reality of why I will never be good enough for her. Or Jacky. Because Mom is never going to let me se her again.

Lexa’s hand is still there though and she is coaxing my head up. I open my eyes to see her. As they open the tears I was trying to hold back escape. They show how weak I am. I’m supposed to be strong for Lexa. Helping Lexa be less of a dick.

But instead of helping her, she is holding me up. Holding me up as the sky falls around us. A self-made apocalypse of stupidity.

“Klark,” she says, and its that funny way that only she seems to manage. “I need you to look at me Princessa.”

I look at her. Looking into the depths of green, the valley in which I wish to be buried. I am lost in her eyes, but her thumb is strong as it strokes me. Pulling me back to the moment. The moment where the water is getting colder, and the chilled air is causing my nipples to prickle painfully large.

“I know I am just the girlfriend, Klarke,” she tells me. She tells me like she had been rehearsing this speech all night. “But I am going to fix this. I am going to fix this all.”

Her hand drops from my face, and to my hip. Both her hands holding me grounded, several inches below her eyes. She is looking down and her body so strong. Strong as though she could hold the universe from sucking me up in the nothingness that _she_ said I belong.

“Klark,” she is pulling me back again. “I need you here with me. I need you to help me fix this.”

I shake my head. I shake it because I can’t fix anything. I’m nothing. I’m incapable of being anything more than nothing.

Her hands are on the sides of my cheeks, and then her lips are on mine. The kiss is so strong and so real.

Almost like she is the air that is needed for me to breathe. Her kiss resuscitating me. Bringing me back to the world of the living, and giving me the strength I need to stand. Because I do stand. I push back form the cold tile against her. My legs supporting my half of us, as she leans in and presses lighter kisses to my cheeks and my nose.

I breath in, allowing my lungs to take in all what threatened to crush me. Owning it completely, because I have been through worse. I have heard _her_ call me worse. I have come from the bottom.

I say, “I’m more than a teenage tragedy.”

“And I’m more than a busted ball player,” she adds.

I hold her by her hips. I hold her and know that I need her. I need her as much as she needed me. Because last night she caught me, when I almost hit the ground. She caught me and protected me

Looking down, she tells me, “I need to go out today. I need to go out, but I will be back.”

I nod. I nod even though I don’t want her to go. Her finger is under my chin though and she raises my head once more.

“I will be back. However, before I go, I need to know where your stock pile is.”

> It still amazes me that Lexa understood me so well. She still does this stuff. Looks at me, and asks the questions that even I am not cognitively willing to acknowledge yet. She is amazingly intuitive, and it is one of the ways that she saves me from myself. 

I shake my head. It’s my safety net. Its what I have to take away the pain, when the nights get to hard, and I can’t sleep because I can’t go check on her. Because I missed another tuck in. Because I am a failure as a mother.

Lexa is there though. Lexa is there and not letting me shy away. Instead, she picks me up. She picks me up, by wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me up. Securing us against the wall. She smiles when I gap at her strength.

She is smiling softly as she says, “I know why you have it, Klark. I get it. But baby. You don’t need it. You don’t need to keep away the darkness, because I’m here. I’m here for when the nights are too scary, and the house seems to echo with emptiness.”

She does know. My heart hurts and stutters that she knows the true meaning of loneliness. So I tell her, “The basket at the top of my closet.”

She nods, and then askes, “And where is the spare?”

I close my eyes, and swallow. Swallow the bile that is threatening to rise again. Rise at the thought that she knows so well to ask for the second spot. The second storage of my weapon of self destruction.

“Between the corner of the couch and the wall.”

Her strokes my face, and her lips meet the tip of my nose. “Good girl,” she tells me. And for some reason, it doesn’t feel condescending. It feels good. Like she gets it and she understands, and there is no judgment.

She leans some, still holding me to the wall. I won’t lie even though our morning as sucked, it feels nice to have her body pressing against me. Her skin touching mine.

I feel her release one hand from me. She reaches over to the top, and she shuts off the water.

The water is still dripping from the showerhead, and pipes scream some. But she doesn’t put me down. She carries me out of the shower, and grabs the towel as we pass. Dripping water on the floor with each step. She carries me to the bed, and drops me.

My comforter is getting soaked, but she isn’t budging to give me the towel. No, Lexa towels off her body, drenching the cotton fibers, so it would never fully dry my skin properly.

“Lexa, its cold,” I say, but she just nods and smiles as she crawls over me. Her gaze nothing but predatory.

I feel my air catch as she stares down at me. Her body as naked as mine, and fuck why is so fucking beautiful. She smiles when she seems me looking down to the few inches separating her landing strip from the smooth skin at the apex of my thighs.

“Like what you see, Princessa?” and I can’t help but notice the pride in her voice.

I lick my lips, and realize I haven’t yet brushed my teeth. I don’t know how but she reads my mind as she spread my legs and lays her abs against me. I fight the urge to grind against her.

We made a deal, and I want to honor it, but fucking eh, she is making difficult.

“You know, Klark,” she starts, her arms holding her chest from mine. “You were very very tempting last night. And that was after you teased me in the bathroom.”

I smile remembering the taste of Lexa’s breasts in my mouth. They were warm and soft, and I wouldn’t mind playing there again soon. Like after I brushed my fucking teeth.

Lexa gestured to my chest though. She gestures and says, “I think its only fair that I get to sample the goods as well.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. I laugh and snort out, “The goods?” And she is smiling goofily above me. One hand find that spot on my ribs that makes me spread my legs just a little bit wider.

Her mouth is just past my ear, and she whispers, “Yes, the goods that were rubbed on my face last night. The ones that are so fucking beautiful that I want to see how soft they really are.”

I feel my back arch before my mind catches up with me to realize that she is asking to touch my chest. I don’t open my eyes or speak. I just nod. Nod ever so slightly, but that’s all it takes.

A simple nod, and the hand on my ribs is cupping my breast. The tender thumb that wiped away my tears, was stroking my still damp nipple. And I can’t help the moan that spills from my lips.

The simple exhale of arousal that is building in my chest, as her wet hair tickles my sides. I start to move, but I move the last millimeters into her mouth.

Her soft lips wrap around my nipples, and I feel her tongue teasing the tip. Its so subtle, but so much. I feel like she is making love to me with just her mouth surrounding my areola, and I am not sure why but I am lost in everything about her.

Unable to do anything but wrap my hands into her hair and pull her in deeper. Feel her sucking my nipple into her mouth. The pressure is not like the suffocation in the bathroom; no, this is wonderful and fulfilling.

Her lips release me, and I feel her body shift to the other side where her thumb is still rolling over my nipple. Her tongue dips down and grazes it as she lightly blows across it. The air is warm but it cools immediately as my nipple I swear stand up even straighter. I push it forward, and say, “Please.”

I can feel her smile as she takes this side. Her body heavy against me, and I just want to rub myself against her. Screw the agreement, and use her body to achieve that release I have been holding for days now. Days sense she was last gone and I could pleasure myself without her heading that I call her name when I climax.

She is sucking. Her body pressing against me, and it becomes too much. Too much as even without movement. Even without her touch me, stroking me.

I feel my knees begin to quake and the heat in my stomach coiling up so tightly and quickly, that I can’t stop it. I can’t stop it as my head hits the bed. Pushing my breast deeper into her mouth and her hand that is massaging with just the perfect force for this to happen.

“Lek-sa,” I cry out as my legs tighten around her body, and my hands grip her hair for balance. But there is no balance as tumble of a cliff into oblivion. Only speckles of stars flashing in my vision.

I’m holding her in place, as her tongue laps at the one side, before moving to the other. Continuing her assault as my sense are still trying to grasp that I just came all over Lexa’s stomach because she sucked on my nipple.

As the waves of my muscles and senses steady, I open my eyes, to see her leaning on arm above me. Smiling as she watches me come down from my high.

“I…” but her finger is on my lips.

She smiles, and tells me, “Your breath still smells like vodka vomit.”

I open my mouth, but then close it. I mean, she gave me my first orgasm at her hands and the first thing she has to say is that I smell like vomit.

I squint my eyes at her and contemplate a comeback. I can’t think of one though. I can’t think of anything, and words were my life. So I go for the next best thing.

I reach up, and I tug her face down to mine. As she turns her cheek to me for a kiss, I open wide and lick up her face.

She tries to pull away, but I have a good grip, so I take the opportunity to lather my tongue over her eye and across the bridge of her nose.

Her hands are pulling at mine to get free, as she cries out, “YOU are DIS-GUSTING!”

I laugh and release her, as she hops off the bed. Her boob-a-looms bounce, and stomach glistens with my slick. I can’t contain any bit of my laugher as I roll over the bed and pull a pair of sweatpants from my drawer.

I am pulling on my clothes, as she glares at me in utter bewilderment. She points to her face and says, “You licked me.”

I smile and nod.

“You licked my face.”

Again, I nod. Then I pull on a tank top that barely covers my breasts.

“You licked my face with your vomit breath,” she cried out this time, point at her face. “You got it in my eye!”

And I couldn’t help it: “That’s what she said.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this piece, please check out my new fic that I am writing with roliver4. It's called "I shouldn't have survived, so thank you."


	20. Breaking Promises

The luke warm water running over my body isn’t helping the ache between my legs. Hearing her come for me and feeling her body against mine. I mean yeah, the puking was fucking disgusting, but I think I can deal with that if I could make her say my name like that again and again.

I touch my stomach where she had pressed against me. I know its in my head, but it still feels warm. I hang my head, so the water can run over my head. I hate how tiny this shower is. I have to duck just to rinse out my hair.

Rinsing out the rest of the conditioner, I take just an extra moment to try and get a grip on myself. Really I want to go back out there, and make love to that girl. I want to spend the rest of the day, memorizing every movement her body makes when her head is thrown back in pleasure, but I can’t.

_We made a deal._

_We made a stupid fucking deal._

I hit my head against the wall before I lean back. My hand finding the spot and going to work. I don’t want to do this now, but I can’t think about anything but how warm she was. How her ass shook last night, and the way she called me her alpha. _Fuck!_

I am rubbing against me harder, I feel it building as I remember her saying my name, and picture myself taking her and rutting against her.

_Rutting’s a word, right?_

Doesn’t matter, though because she is calling my name as I image locking into her. I picture her being tied to me.

“Klark” I say, as I feel my body shaking. Its shaking and I am still stroking myself when she opens the door. I’m not done yet, and I feel the coiling only tighten as my clit throbs.

“You call me, Lex?” she asks, and god damn it why are these walls so fucking thin.

I pull my hand away from my clit, but the clear fucking shower curtain she has leave her nothing but a full fucking visual of me masturbating and saying her fucking name.

I am staring at her trying to get a grip, when I see her questioned look turn to amusement. She knows. Of course she knows.

I flip off the tap shower, and I can’t help but try and avoid her eyes. She just standing the doorway though, in that very tiny fucking tank top. Like she couldn’t at least put on a t-shirt that doesn’t show me practically everything I had in my mouth earlier.

I shake my head, sending cascades of water throughout the room, hoping she would back up. But she didn’t. She stood still as I toweled off my body for the second time today.

I see her tongue sick out as she smiles. Of course she as to show me the fucking body that I want so badly.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth, Clarke,” I tell her, but she seriously just licks her lower lip. I feel like I could just… Fuck I don’t even know. I just know that I want her to take me and fuck me. Fuck me soft and hard and fast and slow. And I want to fucking cum on her face, her fingers, her blue fucking dick she promised me. I just want… _Fuck!_

I shake my head as I try to move around her, but she is not moving. She is still standing there. Still standing there, staring at me with that huge beautiful smile. I try to slide around her, but we are in the SMALLEST HOUSE EVER!

My body was not designed to live in tiny spaces like this.

I feel my body flushing. I’m already frustrated, and she is just making it worse and thinks its funny.

Looking at her, I stand up straighter, and tell her, “Move. I need to go get you something.”

She cocks and eyebrow at me, and then shakes her head. She is not moving, so I do the only thing I can do. I pick her up and take her with me. I carry her to my bed. Well her bed in Jacky’s room, but still right now its mine.

I carry her as she laughs and playfully swats me. I set her down and climb on top of her. Holding her down under me. She’s too little to fight me really, but she plays like she is going to try so I grab her hands and I hold them above her head.

I am leaning forward when she lifts her head and takes my nipple in her mouth. I grind against her, but her fucking clothes are in the way. I feel my body getting frustrated as she sucks her mark into my breast, and damn it I need more. I need her to… fuck… we made a deal.

I let her hands go and try to push up, but her hand immediately finds my other breast, and she just feels so… fucking… good.

“Klark… fuck,” and her other hand is on my ass pulling me against her. I hold myself up over her, and let her guide me. Because I don’t think I can stop this. I can’t stop… but I have to.

I pull up and away from her wanting mouth. Looking down, I see her smiling up at me. “Problem, Lexi?’

I huff out as I feel her fingers trace my abs. I consider just for a minute leaning back down and letting her take me. But I sit up, putting my ass down on her crotch. “I made you a promise,” I tell her.

“You made me cum,” she says. “I want to help you see stars too.”

I swear she is going to kill me right now. I swear I could die right now, if she would just take me.

I roll off her, and pull her into me. Kissing her head, I tell her, “I want to… I want you.”

Its so hard, because she smells so good now that she has brushed her teeth and put on deodorant. I kiss her again. And I hold her to me.

“I want to be with you. I want to feel you against me, and I want you to take me… but I made you a promise,” I say. Its so hard to hold back, but she is getting up so she must understand.

Clarke leaves my room without a word, and I lay on my back on the bed. I can’t ever begin to process how fucking wet I am. I can’t even begin to process because Clarke is standing in the doorway and she is holding up toy that has to hurt going in.

My mouth is open and I just shake my head. I can’t take that. She has to be joking. I am a two finger girl max. Maybe three at the most.

“Its not what you think,” she tells me, and I am so fucking confused. She nods to the head of the bed, and I don’t know why but I move.

I move and she crawls up between my spread legs. Why the fuck are my legs spread like I am going to let her shove that thing in me is beyond me. But honestly for Clarke I think I would let her. I think if that was what she wanted I would let her.

But she doesn’t.

No, she puts the flat bottom against my clit, and I see her dip down and take the top in her mouth. And holy shit, she is going to give me a blow job. She is going to suck my fake dick right now.

And she does. She licks around the tip, and I don’t want to know why she knows how to do this, but fuck its hot. As she presses down, gradually taking more into her mouth, she presses the base into me. It feels so fucking good, and I don’t know what to do.

I mean this is sex… but its not.

Her head bobs up and down the shaft, and each time she goes down, she presses against me again. my legs are shaking as she takes me. She takes me into her mouth and stroke me with her tongue.

My hand finds the back her head as I feel the pressure tightening again. Fingers in her hair as I grind into the silicon. I’m going to cum. There is no question, as I feel my body shaking in a way that it hasn’t since the last time Anya was there.

My grip tightens as her lips brush against my skin. Her hand coming up to hold my hips down at that are moving with her. Trying to thrust the toy into her.

She pops off the toy. Her tongue running down the base, and slides over my most covered slits. She hums in approval of the taste, and I cant’ take it.

I tried. Fuck I tried so hard, but I hit the toy away and press her forward. Press her against me without any resistance, her tongue slips into my slit and she is licking me.

“Fuck!” I say. I should be pushing her away, but I’m not. I am pushing her in further. Pushing her face to me, and she is devouring me. Her tongue running around my clit and over it, and god damn it, the tension is releasing too soon.

My eyes roll back, as I feel her tongue enter me. It enters me, spreading me around her. Enters me and fucking running within me.

“Please don’t stop,” I beg her, because I don’t want her to stop. I don’t want her to ever stop making me feel like this.

I break then. I feel my body start to shake, but I hold her there. I hold her in place, like if I let go she is going to disappear.

I feel the air returning to my lungs, but Clarke hasn’t stopped. She keeps working at my entrance, and as my shaking steadies, I feel her move back to my clit. Her lips locking around it and sucking it. Its still sensitive, but I don’t want her to stop. I don’t want her to stop making me feel so completely open like this.

Her finger is teasing at my entrance, and she only enters when I am beg, “Fuck me, Klark… Please fuck me… please.”

The pressure is so wanted when I feel her enter me. Her single digit running along the front of me as her tongue is flicking against me.

My brain is going everywhere. Trying to process and remember all of these sensations. The feeling of her fucking me so incredibly.

For a brief moment, I feel the guilt wash over me. The guilt of the memory that we had a deal, and I had broken it. I don’t wallow there though. I can’t.

I can’t because she is pushing me. Her tongue pushing against me. Her finger within me. And I feel the shudders hit again. The tiny tickles travelling through every single nerve, as I break once more.

My eyes closed as specks of light flash behind my lids. Her assault on my clit ceasing. Just the single finger stroking me more slowly. Running in and out of me as my walls try to gain some sort of purchase to hold her within.

I am trying to breath, but the air is not enough. Its not enough, because I need her. I need her to tell me this was okay. That she wasn’t going to ask me to leave now. I need to know that I am still what she wants.

Her body moves up, and I feel the fabric of her shirt as she leans over me. Her finger still within me, as she leans forward and kisses my neck. Her lips coated in me, as she kisses up my neck and whispers just past my ear.

“Thank you,” she says first. Her finger starting to withdraw, but my hand is down and I am holding her within.

I feel the tears start. I turn to see her face looking at me. Her eyes loaded with concern. I beg her, “I don’t want to leave. Please don’t make me leave now.”

My chest is fighting for fresh air, but I hold my breath. I hold it and wait for her to be done with me. For me to be her hit and quit. But she presses her lips my cheek. I feel it all falling apart, because that was what I did to girls when I fucked them and then told them they couldn’t stay the night. It hurts, and I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry to every girl I made feel like this.

She tells me, “You’re not going anywhere, but to run your errand and then come home to me. I was thinking we could watch _The Brave Little Toaster_ tonight after you cook me dinner.”

I smile. I smile weakly, but she remembered. She remembered that it was my favorite movie when I was a kid. I kiss her then. I kiss her and taste myself on her lips. I would normally care, but I don’t. I don’t care because Clarke wants me to stay in this tiny house with her.

She pulls out of the kiss and asks, “Are you okay?”

I nod.

I nod, and sigh. I wipe at my eyes, and feel the embarrassment setting in my chest. I can’t believe I cried and begged her to let me stay. But she is kissing my eyes and my nose then, as she slides out of me.

I feel the loss settling in my chest again, but she pushes an arm under my neck and then leans her body against mine. She snuggles into me, and I feel not so lonely. I feel not so abandoned. And the longer we stay like this, I feel the safety of being in her arms.

“I think I am falling in love you,” she whispers. She whispers it like this is a secret she is scared to share with me.

I take my arm, and I pull her on top of me. I pull her up and on me, holding her to my chest. I love to sleep like this. To sleep with her wrapped in my arms. I feel her breathing steady as I hold her to my chest. I want her to hear it. I want her to hear the way my heart beats for her. I don’t know how to tell her, so I need her to hear it from within. The way that when I am with her she fills me up.

~~~~~

I’m standing in the aisle of the smaller farmer’s market. I am staring at the various types of cheeses, and I am looking for gouda. I find the pack and look at the price.

It’s $8. _Why the fuck is cheese so fucking expensive?_

I toss the pack into the cart, with the noodles and the block of sharp cheddar. I still need cream and butter, and the total is already running high with the vegetables and meats that I got just to stock the refrigeration.

Pulling out my phone to log into my bank account. My notifications catch my attention though. I haven’t bothered to listen to any of the five voicemails Anya left me last night or read through her 14 text messages. But she is on my notification in another way as well.

The newsfeed is discussing her return to town. Talking about her arrival. I forgot that I still had the phone set to catch all of her media exposure. As I clicked on a photo of her standing outside of my house, I notice that Costia is bent over her trunk, and it looked as though she is loading her bags. Anya’s arms are folded over her chest, and she looks utterly pissed.

The time stamp, tells me the photo was taken earlier this morning, and it makes me wonder for a moment what Anya is doing. It makes me consider calling her, but I shake it away. I shake it away so that I can focus on the task at hand.

I want to make Clarke homemade mac’n cheese. I found the recipe when I got to the store. I just didn’t realize how expensive this recipe was going to be. I am almost positive, that I am already at one hundred dollars. Pulling up my bank account. The account that I was pretty sure had $1,156 and change yesterday. My stomach churned as I looked over the basket of food.

I jump a little, when a throat clears next to me. I turn and see the one person I never wanted to see again, along with the little person that I wanted to see everyday for the rest of my life.

Abigail Griffin stood behind me. The little blonde with bouncing ringlets like mine was tugging at her sweater saying, “Gamma, its her. It’s Mommy’s favoritist person in the whole wide world!” Her little body is bouncing.

The woman’s steals, and I swear she would be snarling if we were in some fan fiction that she is sporting a little cock in her pants.

> So, I have an elaborate imagination.

Jacky let go of Abby’s sweater, and took a tentative step towards me. Her neck is leaning so far back to see me, but her little face has a broad smile with the most adorable little baby teeth. She tugs on my hoodie, and I can’t help but drop down to be at her level.

She tells me so carefully, “My mommy loves you. She took me to see you play the bounceketball.”

I smile at her. I want to hug her. I want to hug her and run out of the store with her, straight back to Clarke. I was right to think that this little girl would melt me. I hold out my hand to her, and I realize I still haven't said a word.She doesn't seem bothered though, as she takes it and shakes it before turning back to Abby jumping up and down.

“Gamma! She’s real and I got to meet her!” Turning back to me, she wraps her arms around my neck. Her squeeze tight, as she tells me again, “You’re my mommy’s favorite.”

I find my voice finally, as I hug her back with one arm, “You know, I am pretty sure that you are her favorite. I’m just her second favorite.”

The little girl let’s go of my neck and twists her mouth. It’s just like Clarke does when she is thinking really hard. She says, “She loves you a lot. But she told me… she told me I was her most favorite.”

I smile. I can’t help it. This kid is the cutest little person I have ever met. I see her little brow furrow, as she looks back at Abby. Her little blue eyes staring up at the woman. She asks, “Gramma, can we take a picture and send it to Mommy? Can we show hers that hers two most favoritist people are together and that I got to meet her Lek-sa Treekew?”

Abby’s jaw is locked, but I see her hand searching through her purse. I can’t pay attention though, because Jacky is pulling on my sleeve demanding my attention.

I look at her, and she says, “Pick me up.”

I don't move fast enough apparently, so she points, because I guess she thought I didn’t understand her. Her little tiny finger pointing up, she says, “Up, so I can be tall like you and make my mommy proud.”

I look at Abby, and for a second I worry she will be upset. But the second fades because I remember I hate her. With one arm, I swoop the tiny girl into my arm and I hold her up as I stand up. I tower over the bitch as she angles the camera up at us.

I hear the camera’s shutter, and Jacky turns in my arms to wrap around my neck. She is hugging me again, and then her little lips hit me on the cheek. “Thank you, Ms. Treekew.”

I set her down, and she turns back to Abby. Her smile huge, as she holds her arms out, “Did you see how big I was Gamma!”

Abby nods, and turns back to me as Jacky moves around me and is reaching into the open cooler. I glare at the older woman, and say, “What you did last night was wrong.”

She straightened her back, but she was no match for my height. Basketball player perk. Her voice is cold, as she says, “I meant it. She will not be seeing her again. I already contacted me lawyer.”

I looked her in the eyes, and smile, “Funny because so have I.” It’s a bluff, but she doesn’t know that.

I see the fear cross her face for a second before she can mask it. Taking a step forward, I say quietly, “What you said to her was unforgiveable, and I am going to do everything in my power to get that precious little girl back with her mother. Who if you failed to realize is one of the kindest people on this planet, and only takes your abuse in hopes that you will see her one day.”

Abby’s knuckles were white as they clenched the bar of the shopping cart. Her face trying to remain impassive, as the little arms threw into the cart a package of string cheese.

Looking down, Abby tells the child, “Can you go grab your juice boxes, Jacky?” The woman points down the aisle that we can both see. Jacky nods to the woman, and moves down the aisle. She is wearing a tiny purple Phoenix Mercury t-shirt and orange stretchy pants. Her little fit have mini-Ugg boots on that are covered in purple sparkles. I can't help but smile. Pulling packs of juice boxes out from the shelf and stacking them on the ground.

I hear the exhale and when I look at Abby her head is hung. She is shaking her head, as she says, “That’s my baby. I can’t lose her too.”

For a moment I want to pity her. I want to see the good in her the way Clarke always tells me, but I hear her voice in my head. _You’re nothing._

I stand up straighter, and look down at her. My voice low, because I can hear the five year old teetering towards us, with three stacks of juice boxes in her arms. “You raise a child and then tell them their worthless… you don’t deserve to be in either of their lives, and if I have it my way, then you won’t.”

I hear her gasp. Her fear makes me feel powerful. I vow to myself to find away to pay for the lawyer, to get Jacky back.

Jacky is back though, so I put on my smile, and I kneel next to her. “Jacky, thank you for taking a photo with me today. I am so happy I got to meet you”

The little girl smiles and looks up at her grandmother, “Gamma! Her knows my name! Her knows my name!”

I return to my cart, and push away then. I still need to be on that aisle, but I can wait for them to leave. Pulling my phone back from the cart, I glance down. Yesterday I had about $1500 left, but now… I blink because this can’t be correct. But it is. It's the correct bank about number, and it has $96, 685 within. I scroll down, and see the transfer notice. The transfer of funds for $95,152. It wasn’t everything but it was most of my money.

I stand in the cereal aisle and just stare at it. So many things running through my head. But the major on was that I could get my own place. I could move out of Clarke’s tiny brick home… or worse she could kick me out. She could kick me out to go live by myself again.

I stare at the week’s worth of groceries that I picked out. Contemplating what I should do. I hear Abby’s cart move down the aisle from behind me, and I know then that I am safe to proceed back down the dairy section to get the cream I need. As I walk, I make a decision. I make a decision to not tell Clarke that Anya put my money back. No, I make a decision to make a slight detour on my way home.

As I pull the cream out of the case, I glance over. I see the cooler bags hanging at the end of the aisle. I grab four, and put them in the cart.

Gathering the rest of the ingredients, I contemplate how to manage the next part of my plan. I pick up my phone, and I hit Tris’ name in the favorites.

The phone rings twice, before I hear her answer the phone with panted gasps. “ _Hey..loo_ ,” and I am pretty sure she just moaned.

My eyes are wide, as I ask, “Did you answer the phone while having sex?”

“Just… riding Em… whacha need… lek…sa?” and my head is shaking because this cannot be happening.

I can’t even formulate words, as I am pretty sure I am listening to her climax over the phone.

“ _Fuck… right there… God, Em…Don’t stop… Yes! Yes! Fuck YESSSS_!”

I am not even sure why I am still listening, but there is a shuffling, and then a new voice. “ _Hey, Lex. What’s up?”_

I try to speak but I can’t. All I can get out is, “Uhhh…”

“I know she’s great, huh?” Emori asks me, and I think I want to puke. I can’t believe Clarke made this happen.

Shaking my head, I say, “I need Tris’ truck.” It’s all I can get out.

I hear the muffled conversation, and then, “ _Where do you need us? Clarke’s place?”_

“No, meet me at America’s Furniture Warehouse off the 101,” I smile as my plan falls into place.

~~~~~

We pull up to the house, and I get out of my baby. I grab the sacks of groceries and take them into the kitchen. I can hear Clarke playing with Rexa in the backyard. As I stand still, I can also hear Raven yelling at the other girl and dog to chill the fuck out. I am hoping that maybe she didn’t catch us pulling up.

I hold my finger to my lips, and point to the door. Emori moves with me. When we are in the house, we quickly pick up the green tattered couch, and heave it out the front door.

Tris has the bedframe lifted off the new couch as we set old couch down along side the truck. We try to move quickly but the pull out bed inside made it even heavier.

We struggle slightly getting the couch off the truck and even worse getting it to fit in the tiny fucking doorway.

We make it, just as Rexa storms through the door and straight into Tris’s arms. We set the couch, down as Clarke comes through the kitchen door and stares at us. I can see the fury building in her eyes as she points to the couch.

“What’s that?” she asks, her blue eyes locked on me. I swallow, because maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. I mean she looks angry.

I try to play it off. I mean I had to get a new couch to get the kids bed. Otherwise I wouldn’t have a place to sleep. I look down at the couch, that looked close to the same green as the old one.

“I got use a new couch,” I say. I pull the cushions off, and point inside. “Look it has a pull out bed.”

Her face is red though, and she gesturing to it, “Where is my couch, Lexa? You promised no more changes, and you don’t even have money to get a new couch, so what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I shift my feet, and realize that this is a very very bad idea. There is no way I can explain how I managed to buy a couch and a twin bed, without telling her that Anya gave me most of my money back. But I had to buy the couch, otherside she would think I was trying to make my way into her bed, and yeah we had an amazing morning but I don’t know if she wants that yet.

Raven comes into the room then, and takes one look at Clarke with her hands folded of her arms, before moving to the arm chair and having a seat. “This is going to be Broadway musical.”

I take a step towards Clarke but she holds up her hand, stopping me in my tracks. Her head is shaking. No, her whole body is shaking. “You promised. You promised me no more changes without talking with me first.”

I move to the door instead, and she is watching me carefully. I hold out my arm, and say, “Please Princessa. Just trust me for a few more minutes because you tear me apart.”

Clarke takes a few steps and stands in the doorway, as I run to Tris’s truck. I lift myself into the bed and I hold up the white slatted head board with little yellow stars painted on the top. I also hold up a can of paint. I realize as I hold it up though that she can’t see the color.

She is watching me closely, and I can’t read her. I can’t figure out what she is thinking, so I se the head board down. I set it down and I hop down from the bed. I have the paint can in my hand, and a bag of stencils in the other. I am holding them out for her, trying to maintain the distance that she asked me for.

“Anya, returned my money… well most of it,” I start. “I don’t want to move out.”

I don't’ know why I lead with those, but I don’t want her to think that I am spending frivolously. I keep explaining though, “I wanted to get the bed, but then I woudn’t have a bed. I didn’t want to assume or for your to think that I was trying to… so… so I bought the couch with a bed, and I can stay there… stay there until I win your heart. Until I win a place in that room with you. If this is where you want to stay.”

She hasn’t moved. Her eyes looking from my face to my hands to the truck. I think she is trying to process it all, but she reaches out and takes the paint in her hands. She looks over the label on the top, and reads, “Fairy-tale blue.”

I see her rub her finger of the small spot the Home Depot person made to show the final color. She smiles weakly, but then she looks up at me. Her eyes wet, as she tells me, “I can’t let you do all of this, Lexa.”

I shake my head, and shrug. “I already lost the receipt, so you know I can’t take it back.”

She is laughs a little then, and says, “I’ll pay you back.”

I step into her space then, and wrap my arms around her. Pulling her head to my chest so she can hear that I would never want anything back. I just want her. “Just let me try to win your heart, Princessa.”

She wraps her arms around me, and I feel her sigh. I feel her body relax into me, as she says, “Friend ruling me, huh.”

I laugh a little, and tell her, “No loans. Only gifts, and I am giving this to you.”

When I release her, I look up to see three smiling face in the doorway. Looking down, I see Clarke smiling back up at me through her tears. I hope their tears of happiness. Its all I can hope for.

She wipes the back of her hand under her nose, and I swear I may hurl. Its even worse when she wipes it on my hoodie. My eyes are huge, and I ask, “Why? Why would you do that to me?”

Holding her finger up to me, she pokes me in the tit. Like hard. Like it kinda hurts, but I kinda like it. “No. More. Decisions. Without. Me. Lexa. Trikru.” Her tone is terrifying, so I nod. I nod up and down.

 

> We enjoyed that day and that night. Em, Tris, Raven, Clarke, and me. It was a good night. We made Jacky a space that night. We splashed paint against the walls, and over each other.
> 
> My favorite black hoodie will forever match the color of Jacky’s room, when I learned that Clarke knew how to paint. Because she painted a galaxy on my back, after running her brush over it because I made fun of her for not being able to paint the top foot of the wall.
> 
> I’m glad we got to spend that time together. I’m glad we got to have some time as friends and lovers, before the media found out that Costia was Anya’s sister, or before TMZ got a hold of Costia’s video and mocked Clarke on the television.
> 
> We had a day of happiness before Clarke lost her job, and Anya made her second appearance.
> 
> Yeah, that day was special. I still wear that sweatshirt when I miss her. When I feel alone, I just put it on and think about mac’n cheese, Fairy-tale blue, and little glow in the dark stars that we positioned in constellations all over the ceiling. I’ll never forget the night, because I felt like that it could have been my home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I love you all but know that fluffy isn't my thing and I am about to make shit go boom again!


	21. Story time...

**~Clarke~**

For the second morning in a row, I wake wrapped completely up in Lexa’s log arms. Her body entirely curled around me. She is warm and breathing unsteadily at my back. I feel her arms tighten around me, and I push back against her.

“Morning, Princess,” she says gravelly, and I won’t lie I makes me press my ass back into her. I love her morning voice.

I huff though. She forgot the “a”. I wiggle more, and tell her, “You forgot the “a”, Commander Dickly.”

I hear her huff, and her hand slips down and cups my sex. I can hear her smile as she says, “If I use the ‘a’, then can I get your lips to make an ‘o’?”

Her hand is on top of my small boxer briefs, and I feel is stroking me through the material. I can’t let it be that simple though, so I tell her, “If you don’t use the ‘a’, then I am never giving you a blow job again.”

I feel her grip tighten, and her hand move down to skim the bottom of my shorts, grazing over my thigh. I try to hold back, but her hands on me makes me want to lose control.

I press back farther as her fingers break the barrier of my shorts and slide up. Running lightly over the area between my legs. “Lex, we made a deal,” I try.

But she giggles, as her fingers touch my clenched lips. She giggles and presses a kiss to the back of my neck. “You gave me head and fucked me into to two glorious orgasms yesterday. I think that our deal went out the window when your tongue entered me.”

I lean my head into the pillow, giving her access to my neck. I think about how rich and amazing she tasted. Lexa’s beautiful sweet musk that coated my tongue as I drove her through two orgasms, the first coming too fast for my liking.

I hadn’t meant to fuck her like that, but I had to at least try her and she wasn’t exactly saying now. In fact, she begged me to not stop.

“You wanted me too,” I remind her. Then add, “I mean you’re the one that pushed my face directly into your pussy and then begged me for more.”

I feel her hand cup me completely. Her middle finger sliding over my slit, but not breaking the seal. If she did, I am sure she would feel how drenched I am. Her lips are running over my skin, and then I feel her lock on the back of my neck.

She releases just for a minute, and asks, “Should I stop?”

I want to tell her no, but I can’t yet. I sigh loudly, and I nod my head. I feel her hand withdraw, and her face press into my hair. It’s weirdly calming hearing her inhale my scent.

“I’m sorry,” I say, but her arms tighten around me.

She tells me in the most reassuring way to, “Take as long as you need, baby. I’m not going anywhere but down when you ask.”

I smile. It makes a whole new wetness threaten to flood the bed below me. Her sexy voice in my ear, telling me she will wait for me. I lay there and think about how much Lexa has changed in the last month. How the first time I met her, she was telling me that I was going to fuck her, whether I like it or not, to the Lexa that is now waiting for my permission. Even after I drove her over the edge yesterday.

 

> Lexa really had become very very attentive of my needs after moving in. She was always there for me and truly tried to respect my boundaries even though I rarely respected her. I enjoyed pushing her. I enjoyed taking control that she would give me, and rewarding her with bliss. Yeah, I was an ass, but making her climax really is one of my favorite things to do.

Lexa presses one more kiss to my head, and rolls away. As I roll over, I look at her pulling up the basketball shorts to cover the tiny boy shorts. I reach out, and touch her ass lightly. She turns towards me and smiles. I love her smile even more in person than in the photos.

“Well, it’s Sunday,” she starts. Lexa pulls on the sports bra, and I feel my face fall as her breasts disappear from my viewing pleasure. “What do you want to do today?”

 _You, over and over again._ But I can’t say that.

I twist my mouth up, and consider what to do. To be honest, I don’t want to do anything. I try to think of any errands we need to run, but Lexa took care of the grocery shopping yesterday.

Looking up, I tell her, “I don’t think I have any plans today.”

“What about we go to the court and shoot some baskets? I can see if the arena is open and if Tris and Em wanna come.”

I laugh, “I’m sure they have come often by now, but I don’t think I can hold my own against the giant squad.”

She laughs and lays back down, positioning herself over me. Her eyes are so gentle and soft. I reach up and pull her face down to meet mine. Lexa hums in approval of the kiss and lay a little more on me. I love the feeling of her weight against me. She is big and beautiful, and I just want more.

She smiles, as I kiss her neck. Pressing another mark into her neck. She is pulling back though and I can see how dark her eyes are getting. “You can’t tell me no and then do _that!”_

I smile, and slide my hand in her shorts. I stroke her, and slide a finger into her sex. She’s wet and ready for me. I kiss neck as I feel her shuttering against my finger.

“You’re mine, Lexi. And I can take my big bad Alpha whenever I want.”

I know I’m right, because her hips press down onto my hand and her breathing is tense.

“Fuuucckkk,” she gasps out as I move farther down and pressing within her. I wish I had down this before there were two barricades.

Lexa starts thrusting down on my finger and I press my lips to hers. My tongue seeking out hers, and dominating the kiss. Just like I am dominating her.

_Alpha my ass._

I pull my hand out, and tug at her pants. “Off.”

She doesn’t question it getting up just enough to pull off her pants and kick them away. She starts to lay back down, but I shake my head. “No, up and on my face.”

Lexa’s eyes are huge, and she stutters, “I’m… I’m too big. I’ll squish you.”

I quirk my eyebrow, and she bows her head. “I just mean-“

“Up or I am receding the offer,” I tell her. And she moves. She moves up and straddles my head.

I look up to see her beautiful thighs holding herself up over my head, as she steadies herself on the wall. I look over the glistening display above me. Her aroma intoxicating.

I pull her down, and I can feel her legs shaking. Shaking from trying to hold herself up. I tug a little more and she reluctantly lowers herself to my face. I lick upward, and I feel her relax some. Her sex canting down against my tongue.

I feel powerful like this. Controlling her pleasure as she moans. Her hand finding my hair and holding on as I sucked her clit into my mouth. I am running my tongue over her bud in my lips, and I hear her crying out for me.

“Oh God…”

I circle the nub, rolling around it and then over it. Flicking, once, then again. I add one more before returning to circling. Her entrance grinding against my chin.

“Please, don’t stop,” she begs, like I would ever stop pleasuring her mid way. Well maybe I would, but not now.

My hand moves down, and I tug my shorts down, as I suck her back into my mouth. Swallowing her juice, and savoring the flavor.

With my pants off, I run my finger over my own nub. My fingers matching the strokes my tongue is delivering to her sex. Her body shifts some and I feel her lean back. For a second I worry that she is going to hit my hand away from myself, but she doesn’t. Her hand finds my breast and she kneads it so perfectly. I take advantage of her position and plunge my tongue into her, as I push two fingers into me. I am thrusting into both of us, feeling my edge coming hard and fast.

Her hips are riding my tongue that is up and letting her dip and rise on it.

I can’t wait to watch her ride my blue dick, and the thought of her guiding her thrusts sends me that much closer. I have to refocus my attention, but I struggle as I feel her fingers twist my nipple and roll it between her finger tips.

I am so close, and I need her to fall before me. I shake my head a little, rubbing my nose against her.

“Fuuckkk.. Omg… Please… please… Klark,” she begs.

I don’t think I will ever tire of her calling my name like that. I rub against her again, and hear her gasping for air. Her legs shaking again, as her squeezes my breast a little harder.

Her body shifts, and I open my eyes to see her head against the wall, her beautiful black eyes staring down at me. She asks, “Please, baby… can I?”

I reach up with my wet hand and I spank her ass. She jumps a little, but quickly falls back onto my tongue. I have just enough time to tell her, “Cum for me, Lexi.”

My fingers rub against my clit. All rhythm lost, as I she screams, “Klark… Fuck… Fuckk. Oh god! Yes!”

Her eyes are beautiful as I watch her fall apart, her lips making a beautiful o. Her hands clenching against the wall, as her body contacts in spasms above me.

I rub quickly, and find my own pleasure. MY lower half coming up and shaking in pleasure as I drink her cum.

My tongue sloppy as it moves around and in her. Cleaning up what is mine. The beautiful breakfast that she is coating my tongue and lips with.

My cunt it clenching and unclenching. It feels so amazing, as I feel her regaining focus. Her legs quaking as she tries to move off me.

When she lays beside me, I wrap my arms around her. I learned yesterday that Lexa needs a lot of reassurance after she climaxes. So, I am there, running my fingers over her glistening skin.

I press a kiss to her temple, telling her, “You are so beautiful, Lexa.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, her body still shaking in after socks. I hold her tighter, her arm wrapped over my arms. Quietly, she says, “I want to marry you some day.” It's a quiet confession, in post colitis bliss, so I try not to put so much weight in it.

 _I want to be your wife someday,_ I think, but I can’t say that. I already said too much yesterday. But I have to say something, so I tell her, “I think I would like that.”

It’s lame, but I feel her press back into me.

She turns then, and her hand in on the side of my still damp face. She presses her lips to mine, and I feel content. I feel content, because I know Lexa doesn’t like bodily fluids, but she is still kissing me.

“I want to please you,” she says when she pulls back. I see concern in her eyes.

“You will, Lex. I promise you will.”

She lays her head down, and I see her go somewhere. I reach up and stroke her face. “Where you at, baby?”

She licks her lips, and her eyes find mine. Her words quiet and shamed, as she says, “I never let anyone touch me. I did it because I didn’t want to let them in. It scares me. It scares me that you don’t want me to reciprocate.”

I look into her eyes, wishing that they really could show me what is going on in her head, but all I see is fear. I swallow. I don’t want to have her touch me now. I don’t want her to think that I am letting her out of guilt, but at the same point I understand her fears. It’s scary, but I confess.

“Lex, when we met the only thing you cared about was touching me,” I see her eyes close, and I really don’t want her to cry again. I have to be honest with her though. I run my thumb over her cheek, and continue, “I am not saying that is what you still want, but Lex, I need to be where I feel completely safe and ready.”

“You don’t feel safe with me,” she repeats, and I see her shutting down on me. I place my hand on her chest, and feel her heart beating so fast, that I worry it may stop.

I am shaking my head, “No, Lexa. I feel safe with you now, but I am not ready. I’m not ready to let you touch me, and then potentially leave me. I’m scared too. Fuck, I am sooo scared. I’m scared that you will realize this isn’t what you want. That I’m not your typical model like girlfriend. That I’m not Anya. That I am not everything you want.”

Her eyes are open though. Her eyes are open and staring at me. Studying me. Looking for a lie. I hope she doesn’t see one, because I’m not lying. I am being so honest that it hurts. That the honesty is scaring the hell out of me, because it shows her I am weak.

“Anya was like fire blazing through my life,” she tells me. I see her watching me, as she launches into the story of meeting her ex-wife. “I was in college. I was sheltered and scared. We met through Cos. Anya is Cos’s older sister that was already drafted, when I was just getting off the bench. We met on family day, and she was so stern. She told me she had watched me play. Said that she was looking forward to seeing me in the pros.”

She rolls over on her back, and stares at the ceiling. Her hands coming up to help her tell the story.

“Anya was the first person to really believe in me,” she tells me, and I don’t know how that could be true. I mean someone had to push her when she was younger.

I sit up, one hand supporting my head, so I can watch her more carefully as she shares. I want to understand her. I want to know her.

She licks her lips and then bites one. She is gathering her thoughts, and then she continues, “She started mentoring me. Since she lived in Phoenix, it was easier to visit me at ASU. We trained at ASU. We trained on the play yards near her house. We trained in the pool in her backyard.”

“The more we practiced, the more I got to see her. I fell in love with her smile that she makes after each jump shot first. It’s so subtle, because she never wanted anyone to call her cocky. In fact, Anya preferred not being noticed much. That was the next big thing for me. The simplicity that so contrasted her little sister that called for attention everywhere she went. Anya once told me that Costia was a problem kid, and that she was always searching for attention. She really lived off of being Anya’s sister. Every conversation with someone new she managed to drop Anya’s name. It was frustrating, but she was Anya’s little sister.”

She looks at me, and asks, “Can I tell you this, or is it making you uncomfortable?”

I smile at her. I’m not a jealous person, I mean I have a Raven so I am sure that is going to come out sooner rather than later. “You’re fine, babe. I want to know.”

She nods, and goes back to looking at the ceiling. I realize then that Lexa has an issue with eye contact when she is being vulnerable.

“The first time Anya and I kiss, it was during a one-on-one match. She had turned to make a shot, and I blocked it. I hit the ball away, but she was falling backwards. I caught her and pulled her back up and into me. It was one of those kisses I would see in the movies, and it was wonderful,” I see her eyes shift to me. Trying to see if I am upset.

I wiggle my finger in the air, and she smiles. “It was just easy after that. We were together, and no one questioned it. The first time we made love, was my first time. It was months after we started making out, and I didn’t realize then, but Anya had been training me the whole time. She would build me up, just to leave me wanting. She would start to take me, and then cast me away. It was an endless game of cat and mouse. Frustrating doesn’t even begin to explain the power she had over me.”

Lexa pauses for a few moments. She seems to be chewing on her words, but I am not sure why she is so uncomfortable, but she drops it. “I’m a sub. It was months before we had sex, because she was training me to be ultimately submissive to her. And I was. By the time we finally had sex, she had me on my knees begging. It was always begging with Anya.”

I reach over and I pull her head to me. I need to look into her eyes when I ask this. I need to see reaction as well as hear her words. “Lexa, do you want to be a sub?”

She thinks about it for a minute, and she answer, “Yes and no.”

I nod, and ask, “Can you explain for me?”

She nods. But we sit in silence for a little while. I am trying to be patient, but I won’t lie its killing me inside. Carefully, she says, “I enjoy beign dominated. I love how you tell me what to do, and you carry that weight. But I don’t enjoy some of the mental games. I realize now that may be why I bottomed out so quickly when she left. I didn’t know how to control anything really unless it was on the court. She took control over everything. Where we ate, where we traveled, when we had sex, when we did anything. There was always a plan. I had no say, and I thought I was okay with it.”

I nod, and consider if I have given Lexa much choice in things. I think about when Anya crashed our date, and how Lexa coward to her every word. How Lexa didn’t try to fight her, showed not form of dominance. Just let Anya take everything from her, and she hung her head and let it happened. Things began to make more sense to me.

I ask, “Lexa, do you want a sub-dom relationship, because I like to be a top but I don’t see myself being able to run your life like that.”

She shakes her head, and says, “No, I want to be able to be submissive in bed, but equal in the life choices.”

Reaching over, I run my fingers over her chest. She says to me, “She wouldn’t let me touch her, unless it was on her terms, and usually I was tied, so she still had full control.”

Lexa thinks for a moment, and then says, “I enjoy being tied. I enjoy some of the harsher actions like when you spanked me, I almost came without your permission. I enjoy edging and you telling me when I can come for you, but I don’t want to be beat. At least I am not ready for that. I was with Anya, but it's a huge trust thing, and I need to be ready for that.”

Thinking about beating Lexa, I just couldn’t see it. I could only envision myself decked out in leather with a flogger and leaving marks over her beautiful skin,a nd I just don’t want to be that person. I shake my head, and I tell her, “Lex, I don’t think I could ever beat you. Spanking you during sex for pleasure is one thing, but I could never lay my hands on you like that. I could never bend you over my knee and spank you either. Its just not me.”

She nods, and says, “I’m okay with that. I was spanked a lot as a kid. When Anya would spank me like that, I felt like a kid again. I didn’t like that.”

I hug her then. I could never imagine spanking Jacky. “I’m sorry, Lex. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

She nods, but says, “I will never hit my kids, Clarke. Never.”

“Me either, babe. Me either.”

We snuggle in together. Flesh touching flesh. Her arm is under my head, and I feel safe in her arms. Lexa’s story is not done yet.

“Lex, tell me about your first time.”

Her heart quickens, and I worry that maybe I shouldn’t have asked. Her fingers are grazing over my back, and I hear her breathing steady some.

“The first time she used a toy. It hurt pretty badly, but it was okay. I mean I wanted her to. I wanted her to take me, and she had me so wound up that I wouldn’t have said no to anything.” I wonder if she is remembering the pain as she tells me this. I stay still though. Letting her tell me how she wants to tell me.

I feel her heart till beating quickly. “I didn’t… like… I didn’t… couldn’t cum the first time. I think I was too focused on the splitting senstation. She kinda got frustrated that I didn’t bliss out, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know how to make that happen.”

When she continues, I can feel how scared she is, “I… uh… I didn’t… you know like understand how things worked, and it took like five tries before I finally understood why sex felt good.”

We sat in silence after that. I didn’t know how to respond to what she told me. I mean my first time, I came. I came a few times in fact, so I couldn’t even process what it means to have sex so many times and not get off in the beginning. But the more I thought about it, I remembered all the boys that I fucked that were incapable of taking me there.

Slowly, I moved on top of her. I straddled her waist, and looked down at her and her eyes were glistening, but she isn’t crying which is good. Sitting up, I say, “You know, most girls don’t cum the first time. I think that most girls go through exactly what you are describing. I know when I was with guys, it sucked. Hardly anyone could last long enough to get me there, and few knew how to do the prep work before hand.”

She smiled weakly, and whispered, “Thank you.”

~~~~~

It’s later in the afternoon, as we sit out back that Lexa finds the courage to ask me about my first time. We are both digging into our separate popcorn bowls, as Rexa is taking turns catching the flying white puffs from each of us it.

Lexa runs her palms down her short, her body still uncovered for the most part. I am never that comfortable, so I find myself in a pair of yoga pants, a tank top, and a boyfriend sweater. My knees are pulled up to my chest, when she asks, “Klark, will you tell me about your first time?”

I look over at my little broody commander, and I am not sure if this is such a good idea. Her stance is already defensive. It gets worse, when the front door slams closed, and we hear Raven call out, “Hey batch! I’m home!”

Lexa literally growls something about this being her home, but its unintelligible for the for the most part. I smile at Lexa, and I think about how jealous she gets. I am not sure if she can handle knowing that Raven was my first.

Raven comes out of the door, and immediately digs her hand into Lexa’s popcorn bowl. She is shoveling it in her mouth, when she sees my eyes squinted at her. She looks down at the two bowls and rolls her eyes. “Ugh, her too?” Lexa is trying to keep her cool, but Raven just laughs, “You two are made for each other and your separate bowls. Do you fuck with separate dicks too?”

I look at Lexa, and hold out my hand. “This was my first.” I see Lexa’s eyes widen, and take in Raven.

Raven looks scared for all of ten seconds before the biggest smile spreads across her face. She point to her crotch, and says, “Yeah, she fell right there and the rest is history.”

Lexa’s brows scrunch and I can tell she is trying to process what just happened. When she looks back at me, she says, “You fell… You fell on her crotch.”

I put my hands over my face, and nod in shame.

Raven holds up her hand with two fingers, and smiled, “There two precious fingers brought Princess into womanhood.” And the smile on her face, was the whole reason I lost my virginity that day.

_~7 years, 10 months, and 21 days ago~_

_That summer was rough on us. Marcus was playing with bringing home another boy to share a room with John, and Raven and I had been at each other’s throats pretty consistently. It was too hot to go outside, or walk anywhere, and John had crashed our car. We were up late, and Marcus was complaining that the social worker would be there in a few hours and would want to do a room check._

_Raven had showered, had just pulling on her boy shorts. She was always very comfortable with her body, while I tended to be more prudish. I was gathering my things to head into the bathroom, and I tripped on the wet towel that she left on the floor. I caught myself on the dresser and pushed up but twisted in that fucking towel, and I fell back into her lap, where she was sitting on the bed._

_She leaned back and just smiled at me. Gesturing down she told me, “well since you’re down there.”_

_I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, and I was already frustrated. I mean I have been watching her get naked for months now. But I got up, and made my way to the shower._

_I was in the bathroom, when she came in. I was pissed at first because she interrupted me and my shower head time, but she pulled back the curtain and just stared at me, wearing that same fucking smile._

_“You know, I could have taken care of that for you,” and I realized the shower head was still in my hand, and I was so fucking embarrassed. I knew then though that she wasn’t joking. It was just awkward though. I mean, I was standing there, hair full of conditioner, and she looking over my body like a fucking wolf in full rut._

_“Get. Out.” I said, and she just shrugged, closing the curtain._

_I rinsed my hair out, and got out not even bother to finish what I had started. Wrapping the towel around me, I made my way back to the bedroom. She was finishing putting the rest of the dirty laundry into the basket, when I came in._

_I closed the door, and I looked at her standing still. She knew that I always changed in the bathroom, and her smug smile was almost too much for me to handle._

_She laid down on her bed, and patted her lap to me. I’m still not sure why but I moved over and straddled her. Looking at her, I said, “I’ve never done this before.”_

_She nodded to me, and she ran her finger down my still wet arm. She told me, “We don’t have to if you don't want to.”_

_But I wanted to. I hadn’t finished, and I was tense, and I wanted to know what it was like._

_She must have known, because she reached up and carefully pulled me down to my first kiss with a girl. It was soft and sweet and careful. We kissed for awhile, before, she moved us, so she could be on top of me._

_Her touches were all gentile, especially as she tugged the towel open. I lay like that for awhile staring at the ceiling. She took her time, pulling her shirt off, and then her pants. There wasn’t a show of it, just her getting as bare as me, before laying between my legs, and pulling me back into kisses._

_Her hand found my center and she pushed in carefully. It didn’t hurt until she added a second finger. But even then she was careful. It was slow and awkward, but it felt good. She kissed me everywhere, before she went down on me. We were fumbly kids, so it took a little while before she found the right stroke, but I did see stars that first time._

_When I came to, I immediately went down and went to work. She told me she was close, when John walked in on us. He was yelling about not wanting to share is room until he saw Raven’s hand holding me face between her thighs._

_~~~~~~_

“I’m still pissed I didn’t get off that day because of fucking John,” Raven said. Her thumb and fore finger pinch together, leaving about a dimes distance between them as she says, “I was this close to cumming all over Princess’ face when that dick came in.”

I look at Lexa, and I swear she is about to lose her cool. Raven notices though too, and she cast a glance my way. Pointing at the silent professional ball player, she says, “Is she about to go all crazy jealous on me? I mean if she is you should tell her it is because of me that you fell in love with her.”

Lexa looks to me pleading for something. Probably something to take the image of me and Raven out of her head. I nod to her.

“It’s true,” I say. Not really sure how to proceed.

Lexa bites her lips, and asks, “Please.”

I roll my eyes out of frustration. Holding up my hands, I say, “I was at ASU with you.”

Her eyes flash for a moment, and then widen. I shake my head, and glare at Raven for telling her that I’ve been in love with her for a while now.

She shakes her head, “I would have noticed you.”

Tilting my head, I look at her, “We went to a school with 30,000 other people and you were a big deal and I’m a nobody.”

Lexa is shaking her head, and leaning forward. “No, Klark. I would have seen you.”

I laugh then. She could have seen me. I mean I was at every single game rooting for her. “I went to all your games, and I was so excited when you stayed in state for pro. Marcus gets me season tickets every year for Christmas.”

Her head is still shaking and she is up then, “No. I would have seen you. I would have noticed you.”

I laugh, and give her a little more, “We had a class together. Intro to Shakespeare. You slept though every class, and I think I still have notebooks full of sketches of you sleeping in your chair.”

Her eyes are even bigger, and she asks, “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Laughter from both me and Raven fill the air. Raven takes control though, as she says, “You remember waking up with all those spit balls in your hair?”

I didn’t think Lexa’s face could get any paler, but it seemed like all the blood was gone. I nod, and Raven points to herself. “Ha! That was me.”

“I remember turning and these two girls in baseball caps were…” she starts but trails off. “I yelled at you.”

I nod. She had yelled at us.

“I called you-“

“Fucking useless bitches,” Raven said. Pointing to Lexa, she turns to me, “You sure know how to pick’em.”

Lexa is in front of me on her knees then, her face so pained, as she tells me, “I am so sorry. And I was so wrong.”

I reach forward and stroke her face, “It was a long time ago, and I should have let her do it.”

“You didn’t, Princess,” Raven states. “You actually chased after this one and she smacked your books out of your hands when you tried to apologize for me as she pushed past you.”

Raven is not helping, and I see Lexa shrinking back into herself. Quietly, she says, “You put coffee on my desk the next class. It said sorry on it, and when I turned around you weren’t there,” she says.

I nod. I can’t believe she remembers this all.

“She made us move to the back, so I wouldn’t pick on you anymore. You lost the game the day I fucked with you, and it ate Princess up.”

I take a deep breath. I had never planned on Lexa knowing that I had obsessed about her in college, let alone that we had met before and our first interaction was almost as bad as our second.

Looking at Raven, I ask, “Why are you here, Ray?”

“Came to get my bed.”

Lexa’s head pops up and she says, “Your bed?”

Raven nods.

I point to Raven, and explain, “Jacky’s room was Raven’s until we both started to making enough to not have to live together anymore.”

Lexa’s mouth opens and then closes. She whispers, “We had sex on Raven’s bed?”

I smile, and say rather loudly, “Yes, I fucked you into multiple orgasms on Raven’s bed.” I watch as Raven’s eyes squint and she shakes her head.

“You didn’t.”

Lexa is looking and Raven and I can she is realizing she is picking up that Raven is not going to be happy about us having sex on her bed. She turns to Raven and said, “Did you teach her to suck dick too? I mean she gave me one hell of a blow job and then made me see the whole universe twice.”

“You had sex on my bed!” she cried out. Raven’s face is so perfectly irritated, that it is totally worth it. “You have your own bed. You couldn’t fuck her on YOUR bed!”

I wave to the garage, “Its in the garage, if you want to take it.”

She’s pointing at me, just as John comes into the back yard. “You are a horrible sister!” And then she turns to Lexa, “And you… I still don’t like you!”

Lexa stood up then, and went to greet John. He is watching the scene, and just swallows as Lexa approaches him like she may drag blades over his skin to torture him.

“Hello, you must be John,” She says holding out his hand. He takes it but turns to me and points. I realize then that Lexa is still in her sports bra and she looks stunning.

“Princess, Lexa Trikru is in your backyard like wearing no clothes,” he says.

Raven huffs, “And they had sex on my bed!”

John reaches over and pulls Lexa in for a hug. His head falling on her shoulder as she pats her back. When he pulls away, he tells her, “Thank you for dusting that off. I was worried there may be cobwebs gathering up there.”

“Fuck you!” I yell at him, but the damage is already done. Lexa has made friends with my brother. This is not going to end well for me.

 


	22. Stand Up and Fight with Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't lie this is like seriously rough. I may need to edit more in the morning, but I wanted to give you all something. Love you- Luxi

**~Clarke~**

Class was going well, and with each engaging comment, I just want to record the kids, so I can show Lexa. I want to show her why I love this. I mean they are sitting in a circle, having a large group discussion.

Octavia is practically bouncing in her seat, as she explains, “No, that’s not what Machiavelli is saying though. Yeah, he argues for fear being more important, but he is not arguing that fear is the most important.”

“Like in the _The Hunger Games_ ,” Lincoln ads. “Even Snow knows the importance of love. He rules through free, but at the same point he makes the people love the game and even knows that they have to leave the smallest element of hope at the end.”

“He’s a villain though,” Charlotte throws in, but Octavia is bouncing again.

Her voice is so proud, “But he didn’t realize it at first. I mean its like that quote about people not realizing they are villain. Like they believe what they are doing is for the best for their people.”

Octavia is looking to me for help, and she asks, “What’s that quote again?”

I laugh lightly, as I flip on the document projector and put up the quote that Octavia was asking for, as I remind them, “Jim Butcher wrote in his book _Cold Days_ that ‘No one just starts giggling and wearing black and signs up to become a villainous monster. How the hell do you think it happens? It happens to people. Just people. They make questionable choices, for what might be very good reasons. They make choice after choice, and none of them is slaughtering roomfuls of saints, or murdering hundreds of baby seals, or rubber-room irrational. But it adds up. And then one day they look around and realized that they're so far over the line that they can't remember where it was.’”

I don’t get the chance to say more than the quote as Octavia moves to the board, and is pointing, “Like Snow probably doesn’t even know where the line is anymore. We get a distorted director’s version in the film, but Collins never wrote that.”

Monty is up on his feet, though, and his hand motions are a little more reserved than the bouncey brunette. “I get what you’re saying, but Machiavelli is telling the prince that the only way to gain respect and retain it is by instilling fear, and fear causes rebellion. That’s what Katniss became a representative. The discontent with fear-based leadership.”

Jasper is next to his best friend, “And Rand argued that the fear based-leadership failed as well due to the people who walked away from their jobs because of the fear of government. I mean it won’t stop people from breaking laws.” He holds his hands up and signals around to the other students. “Every person in this room felt that rules were pointless. We broke them and our fear-based legal system didn’t do anything to fix the problem. They didn’t care why we were breaking laws. They just cared that we served consequences.”

Octavia returns to the circle, “But can you lead by fear. I mean the dead dude makes a valid point. Love is shifting. Loyalities change with the perception of betterment in position.”

I love watching this interaction and hear my kids replaying their several years in my class. As a teacher there is no better feeling, and the only thing I can think of is how excited I am to tell Lexa this.

The bell rings then, and I am disappointed that we will lose part of this momentum before tomorrow. Discussions and engagement like these are gold in a teacher’s world and bells ringing to interrupt them suck.

The kids are grabbing their stuff, as I remind them, “Tomorrow we will be talking about the next section so DO NOT FORGET TO READ IT.” But most of the teens are gone before I even finish my sentences.

“By Griffin!” and “Love you, Grif!” are called back as the remaining students were walking out.

Octavia was the only student lingering, as I began pulling together the concrete poems from creative writing. She approached my desk, her eyes kind of concerned. I glance up at her, and I ask, “You okay, O?”

She sit atop the desk closest to mine, as she asks me a question instead of answering mine. “Are we sisters?”

I squint at her, and say, “Well if you see Kane as a dad, then yes.”

“Okay,” she answers nodding. “So, since you’re my sister. Then I need to protect you.”

I freeze as I look her over. _What the fuck is she talking about?_

I don’t have to wait though. She starts talking and her face is getting redder by the second. “Look I know you love that bitch, but seriously she is not a good person.”

I am so confused. I can’t figure out how she knows about Lexa. I mean we had been so quite. Keeping to ourselves. Staying mostly at the house. And then I know. I know she has seen the video.

“O, did you see that video?”

The girl’s eyes shoot up and she swallows. Slowly she nods, and explains, “Yeah. Dr. Griffin was at the house Saturday. She showed Marcus and then started talking about the school.”

_She wouldn’t._

“She was talking about the grant funds and the lose of donations…” she’s still talking but I don’t hear her. I can’t process what I know is coming. The days excitement fading too quickly.

I can’t even process that we are no longer alone. I can only process that there is someone’s hand on me. I snap around and come face to face with the woman that ruined my fucking life. Her sharp cheekbones only accented her dark lined eyes, as she held me in place.

I am not sure what came over me, but I snap. My hand comes up and collapses against the right side of her face. I am about to spit angry words but I don’t get a chance as my head snaps back and I feel the my face explode pain.

Too little, too late, my hand reaches up and touches my right cheek. It stings, but Anya’s eyes glare stings just as much as she stares down at me with her chest puffed up clearly ready for a brawl.

Her snarl is undeniable, as she states, “If your done with your childish tantrum, I’m here to help you.”

I stare at her. I don’t know what to say, and I see Octavia moving towards us, putting her body next to mine. I can feel her desire to be strong, but she has to know that even together we are still no match for the trained athlete before us.

“I’m about to get fired, and my mom took away all of my visitation from my daughter.” Its quiet as it comes out, and I am not sure why I even tell her this. I mean she is the enemy. She hurt Lexa, and she ruined everything I have done to get Jacky back. But as I think more, I know. I know this isn’t her fault.

This never would have happened if I hadn’t tried burned up Abby’s house. This wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t a whore. This wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t drool over someone that was out of my league.

_She_

_won’t_

_want you_

_when you are_

_unemployed,_

_and poor._

_Not_

_good_

_enough,_

_ever._

_I’m_

_sorry._

_Pitiful._

_She won’t_

_remember_

_me after_

_this._

_I’ll_

_never_

_see her_

_again._

_I_

_am_

_soooo_

_sorry,_

_baby._

I can’t stop my tears from falling, and before long I can’t stop my body from falling either. Anya didn’t catch me though. No, she simply reached forward and tapped me hard enough to send me backwards into the arm chair. I hadn’t even realized I moved into the center of the discussion seating area.

I’m wiping at my face, as Anya looks over the couch across from me before taking a seat on a clearly more appealing desk top. Her eyes are running around the room that I would be packing up soon. I realize that so much of my life was made in this room. All of my confidence in being alive is tied to being important in this space.

“I can see why she would love you,” Anya states. Her eyes run over my, and she wavs lightly at me, “I mean the you got the cute teacher thing going, but clearly you are something else.”

She looked over Octavia, and asked, “Whose your guard pup?”

Octavia moves to step between us, but I hold up my arm and block her enough o let her know to hang back. “She’s my sister.”

Anya cocks one brow and for a second I wonder if that is where Lexa learned that jester. Her eyes flick back and forth between us, and she asks, “Half sisters?”

“Foster,” I say.

I see Anya study me for a second, and then she sighs loudly. Shaking her head, she looks up at the ceiling. “You are something else. Like you can’t be the savior teacher, but the single mom, trying to get your kid back. Then let’s just add in foster kid success story. Like seriously, do you have a sob story that we can’t play up.”

I don’t even know how to respond to her statement. I don’t even have a chance, because Raven is rushing into the room. Her focus entirely on me, as she says, “Princess, your mom here with the artillery. We need to like escape through some fucking pod or something. Like light speed-“ but she stops talking when her eyes run over Anya.

Anya stands. Her eyes running over Raven. Raven squints though, and I see her go into protective mode as well. “What the fuck are you doing here? You didn’t hurt us enough already?”

“Us?” Anya questions, looking back at me.

I wave to Raven, and state, “other sister and basically second parent to the kid we don’t get to see any more.”

Anya rolls her eyes, but looks back at Raven. Her voice is steady, “Is there someone else that is going to come in, or can I get to why I drove out into the middle of know where to see the sob story.”

My anger is returning, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because there is nothing left to fight with. Everything is over. Abby is already here to watch as I am escorted off campus.

“My brother doesn’t work here, but he is not the one to be afraid of. I am the one that can blow you up,” Raven says coming closer to Anya.

Anya smiles then, “You seem interesting. After I fix your life, you should let me take you out to dinner.” I smile when Raven’s mouth drops open. I can tell that her wit is failing her, and its kind of nice to see her floundering for words.

But then I remember. I remember that the world is crashing around me, while I watch from the self-composed cell.

“Don’t answer yet,” Anya says as she puts her finger to Raven’s chin and closing her mouth. I remember her hand on me in a somewhat similar situation. I also remember her kissing me because she could.

Raven looks at me, and I just shrug, saying, “Last time she kissed me, so don’t look at me for advise.”

She turns back to me then. She turns back and looks me over. “Stand up, and get your shit together.”

I am baffled. She can't just expect me to snap to attention. “Are you serious right now?”

She nods, and continues, “I came to help you fight. I can’t do that though if you have given up. So get the fuck up and show me I didn’t just waste ten grand on legal fees.”

I am so confused but I stand. I want answers. I want to know how she plans on helping me.

“Shoulders back,” and she approaches and her hand locks on my arm and pushes me to stand up straighter.

She moves to the side, and I swear she just looked at my ass. “What are you doing?”

Anya’s eyes are stern, as she explains, “Seeing what I am working with. You definitely are the whole package, which will help us.”

I shake my head, “I don’t understand.”

“We are taking this public. Make you the teacher that everyone wants to employ. TMZ blasted that video, but I made sure that it has been removed, and I promise Cos will not be anywhere near by to try and fuck things up again.”

I close my eyes at her name. I have never met her, but I know she is capable of anything. “How can you be sure?”

“Rehab, on my dime. She is gone for at least 90 days, with a promise of complete dismissal if she so much as steps out of line while I clean up her mess again,” she says. Her hand is on my chin again, and she is pulling my face up to look at her. “My lawyer is at the court house now, fighting for immediate visitation for you and the little green faced girl.”

 _What the fuck is she talking about? Green face?_ But it clicks then. Lexa must have taken a photo. Lexa must have told Anya about Jacky. _Lexa told Anya I am a fucked up mother._

As if she understood where I was going, “She threatened to sue me. That girl has never stood up to me. Never. It seems my former wife has finally found her balls, and grew up for you Clarke Griffin. Don’t be to angry with her. She loves you.”

I feel it. I feel it every time she smiles at me. I knew she loves me. Hell, I knew I love her too. But hearing it from Anya is overwhelming.

“I got the girl, and you got the woman,” she says.

I smile then. Its weak but it's a smile. “Did you just quote Janna Kramer?”

Anya smiled too, “Well, I did change the gender. Unless Lexa had an operation I am unaware of.” She shakes her head then, “I know she was always obsessed with have some strange penis that does questionable things to something called an omega.”

I laugh then, but its short lived. The door opens again. The outside light streaming into the more muted room. Kane led in several of the school board members. Abby bringing up the tail end.

Kane looks tired. His eyes sacking with dark bags, and his face scruffy from not shaving. He glances over his three girls, and shakes his head. “Clarke, we need to talk with you.”

Anya stood up then, and moved forward to greet the people. She greeted Theloneous Jaha, and Diana Sydney, followed by and older man with a greying beard and a smaller Asian woman with dark hair pulled back into a tight bun.

Shaking their hands, she introduced herself. “Hello, actually we were just coming to see you all. My name is Anya Trikru-Winters. I have been working with Clarke on becoming acquainted with my family’s foundation. Perhaps you have heard of it? Winter’s Rewind Foundation. We specialize in funding outreach programs for troubled teens through the incorporation of physical activity and sense of place building for struggling and problematic teens.”

Kanes eyes flash over me, and then to the board members. His hand extends again, and he is shaking Anya like an over eager fan. “Of course Ms. Trikru-Winter. We actually have a grant application in for funding a basketball court for Ark Academy.”

Anya stood straighter, taking her hand back. Her ownership of the room of the room is undeniable.

> I had known of Anya’s family. I mean how could I not with the way that I followed Lexa. However, really my association with the foundation ran deeper. Raven and I went to college thanks to Rewind. Awarded full scholarships for academic merit and rehabilitation.

The board members were all looking over each other, but Abby wasn’t having it. She moved forward, and took Anya’s hand. “it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dr. Abigail Griffin, and I would love for a chance to speak with you about your foundation. And, I’m sorry but I am not sure if I misunderstood. Did you say Trikru-Griffin? As in relation to Lexa Trikru?”

Anya smiled, and said, “Yes, Lexa is my former wife. We recently finalized our divorce; however, I am happy to learn that she has found new happiness. But beyond my personal life.”

She gestures to the board, and says, “We have taken a special interest in Ark Academy. I have been interested in this program for some time, and I am so pleased to see that a Rewind to Move Forward Scholarship recipient is actually here to continue the values of the foundation.”

Abby seems displaced, like she doesn’t know how to react with such an important potential investor in the room. Her anger gets the best of her though. She states, “Actually, your former wife is part of a concern for us at the moment because it appears that we will be obtaining some rather bad publicity due to unethical behavior by Ms. Trikru and Ms. Griffin. However, Raven is also a scholarship recipient so maybe we can highlight her achievements because as of this afternoon, Ms. Griffin is no longer employed with Ark Academy.”

The room is crushing in. As though the walls are refusing to stand any longer. Humiliation hold of every cell of my body while my acidic blood is burning through my circulatory system. I feel like I am burning from the inside out, but Anya is next to me. Her arm on my shoulder as she shakes her head.

“Well that will not do,” she says. “We are honoring Ms. Griffin as our Educator of the Year. If she is not longer employed here, then it is clear that we need to focus our attention and financial support in a place that is more… more suitable to our needs.”

Turning to me, Anya lowers her hand. She reaches into her purse and withdraws a card after a moment. “Clarke, please contact me after you have retained you belongings so we can assist you in finding a more suitable establishment to support your truly inspiring teaching style.”

And as quickly as Anya came, she was gone. Not bothering to say her farewells to the board. However, she didn’t need to. She was more important than anyone in this room.

Marcus stands straighter, glaring at Abby. His voice is harsh, as he states, “You willing to lose funding for your vendetta against your own kid, Abby?”

Abby stood straighter. Her words harsh as she declares, “She is not my daughter, and she has shaming this school.”

Kane is shaking his head. Turning to me, he says, “Clarke, I’m sorry. As of right now the minutes stand; however, I ask you give me some time to call for a revote at the next board meeting. The meeting is Friday, and it is open to the public.” He stares at Octavia as he declares this. The girl nods then, understanding that he is giving her a job. She takes my hand and holds it. Giving me a tight squeeze.

Octavia is a good kid, and a fighter. She doesn't believe in giving up. She never has, which makes her one hell of a fighter. She smiles at me then, and says, “I guess I get to pay you back now.”

I feel my eye brows scrunch as she says, “You know for saving me from going to juvie by gathering everyone together to come to my hearing. For making the judge see that there was more to me than just another stupid kid. For helping me fight against a system that allowed me to be locked in basement for sixteen years.”

I hug her then, and tell her, “I didn’t save you, kid. You saved yourself by speaking up. You never should have been in front of that judge to begin with.”

 

> I never knew that Octavia had felt so strongly about that trail date before then. I mean I knew she cared about me, but I thought it was just an honor thing. I mean all I did was make phone calls and visited her in group home. I hadn’t adopted her. I hadn’t given her a roof. I had just made phone calls. But I learned that day that some times even the smallest thing can change someone’s life. Like she would change mine. I owe my job to Octavia. I mean and Anya, but mainly to that kid.


	23. Breaking One Cycle Only to Fall into Another

**~Lexa~**

Dinner was ready over a half hour ago. I was pacing the living room as I wait for Clarke. She is never this late. I don’t even understand how she could be this late and not tell me.

I am fighting the urge to get in my car and trace her path. I mean only crazy people do that. But she hasn't returned any of my calls or texts. Raven isn’t responding either. My meter is at a ten, and I am pretty sure I am wearing away the stain on the floor.

The vanilla pumpkin Scentsy cubes that I felt smelled homey earlier, were suffocating me. The house is too warm and squeezing in on me. Clarke keeps these walls up, not me. I need her, and the idea that something may have happened to her is tearing me apart. The feelings rushing through me, and words waving through my core make me start to lose control.

MY hands are shaking, and I can’t take another step.

I keep repeating, “She’s just late.”

I slide down the wall to the floor.

“She’s just late and forgot to call.”

My head hits the wall with a _thud!_

“She’ll be home any minute and will freak out if you are losing control.”

Fingers clench, as my nails dig into my palm. It hurts but its nothing compared to the emptiness that will be there fir something happened to Clarke. I clench my eyes as hard as I clench my hands, and I am trying to calm my self.

When I get to five, I need to be in the chair. So I try to relax. The emotional waves peaking with tears, but drying before they fall.

_10… I am just PMSing, and Clarke has made this drive numerous times before._

_9… Nothing has happened to her. I am panicking because I am afraid._

_8… I am afraid of being alone, and I fixated my fears on losing her._

_7… She is becoming my new Anya, and I giving her too much._

_6… Clarke loves you, she said so. Don’t ruin what you built._

_5… You can’t lose yourself again. You can’t depend on her._

_4… you made it to five so get up and move your ass over._

_3… Don’t get power hungry. You will ruin everything._

I don’t make it to two though, because there is gravel crunching in the front of the house. I push up from the floor and wipe at my face. I can’t show her that I was freaking out. I move to the door and throw it open, but its not the little blonde ray of sunshine that I depended on. It was the other blonde. The wrong blonde that stood three inches taller than me.

I don’t move more than to look behind her. She is being followed by another man in a black suit and purple tie. I knew who he was. He had served me the papers the first time Anya tried to get me sign them.

“You going to make me stand out here?” Her eyes are set as always. Same controlled demeanor, but something tells me no. I won’t move for her. I hold my hand in the doorway, blocking her from entering.

I steady my voice, and ask, “What are you doing here?”

Anya’s eyes run over Lexa’s arm, and she cocks a brow at me. I know that look. It always came before she would take me over her knee to remind me of my place. Remind me that I belonged to her.

_But I don’t belong to you any more. I belong to me._

She crosses her arms over her chest, and shakes her head. Carefully she says, “I had nothing to do with the video, and I was already at the school fixing Costia’s fuck ups. But I guess its time to fix mine.”

Anya turns then to her lawyer, and nods to the car. “Wait in the car until I text you to come in, or Ms. Griffin returns home. I know that packing up her classroom would probably take her awhile. I just thought she would be home by now.”

I don’t understand. I can’t comprehend why Clarke would be packing up her room. I reach in my pocket and pull out y phone. I hit her name again and try to call her. The phone is ringing as Anya pressed past me and into the house.

I watch her looking over the small space. I know she would never approve of living like this. Anya was born into sleek and steady wealth. Everything muted shades of grey and black, something Clarke would call a shade and lacking personality.

Anya moves forward and takes in the small kitchen, before Rexa bounds in through the open back door and right into Anya’s fitted black pants. The dog jumped and hugged Anya like they were best friends. Leaving dust and hair coating the front of her as she pushed the pit off of her.

Turning to glare at me, she says, “You could have warned me about the buffalo that would charge me, Lexa.”

I smile at the knowledge that Anya would we distressed for the rest of the evening until she was able to clean herself of the animal hair.

The call goes to voicemail, and I end it. I have seriously listened to Clarke’s professional voice giving instructions on how to leave a message too many times today already.

I push the phone back into my jeans, and plop down on our new couch. The couch that Clarke let me keep but has yet to make me sleep on. Anya looks over the couch, and then shakes her head. “There is hair everywhere.”

I smile at her discomfort and point to the sign.

Anya turns her attention to the bookcase and reads the plaque. She rolls her eyes again, and moves into the kitchen I watch her look over the small dining room chairs before picking it up in one hand and carrying it into the living room.

Rexa must sense that Anya isn’t a dog person, because she has made her way on to the couch and dropped her disappointed mug in my lap. I scratch behind her ears, ant tell her, “Its okay, Rexa, Anya’s just a grumpy bitch.”

“Mature,” Anya retorts as she lowers her body on to the small chair. Gesturing to the house, she says, “it’s quaint… and humble. Its very… Clarke.”

I nod as I look down at Rexa. This house was very Clarke. I wondered if Clarke married me if she would give up quaint and humble for a house that had a shower in which I could turn around.

Anya leaned forward, and rubbed her jaw a little. I see the hint of a bruise, but I don’t question it. However, she got it, I’m sure she deserved it.

“Lex,” she starts, but it takes her a moment to continue. Her control seems to be wavering, and this is a different Anya. An Anya I have never seen before. “I have been seeing someone, and I need to discuss a few things with you.”

I am so confused. Why is she telling me she is dating? She has every right too. I mean I can’t even count the number of people I fucked after she left.

“I left, and it wasn’t for the right reason,” her hands are wrapping over each other as she speaks. “I was so power hungry. I loved the way I could bend you, but you slipped… you slipped into this sub space that I couldn’t pull you from.”

I realize this isn’t about dating though. I realize that she isn’t dating someone. She is seeing a counselor.

She sighed, as though she was remembering a piece of my life that I can’t understand. Because I don’t. I don’t remember slipping away. I remember devoting everything to her. Every single element of my atomic being.

“I pushed myself into a dom space that I know now caused so many issues between us. I took away your choices. I took away your goals. I made you completely compliant, and when I was done there was nothing left to challenge me.”

I swallow and hold my hand to Rexa’s head. I need her for stability, as I remember. I remember walking through the house void of everything. Waiting for instructions on what she wanted.

She looked at me then, and I see a softness in her eyes. The way she looked the first time we kissed. The way she looked when we first met. Like I was a prize for her. Not something to control yet. But something to win.

And it hits me then.

She is here to win me.

I won the game she lost.

Her words are firm but honest, as she states, “I owe you an apology. I was you wife, and I didn’t abide by our vows. I didn’t protect you, I tried to break you. I didn’t cherish you, I tried to change you.”

She gestures to the house then, “And she… she gets you. She sees a you that I could never even comprehend was there, since I was hell bent on making you mine.”

I run my hand down Rexa side, and the dog lets out a huff of pleasure. “I always wanted a dog,” I say. I am not even sure where it comes from, but since she is being so honest I guess I just wanted to give her something. Show her something about me.

The door opens though breaking the moment Anya and I were having. Clarke is coming in with a huge box in her hands. She looks flustered and has a beginning of a bruise on the outside of her right eye.

I jump to my feet, pushing a startled Rexa to the floor. I take the box from her arms and set it on the coffee table before I run my thumb lightly over her eye. “Whose ass am I beating?” I ask, but Clarke’s eyes flash to Anya.

I feel my blood boil as I twist around to Anya. She is also on her feet. I look back at Clarke and ask, “Did she hit you?”

“Yes, but-“ I don’t give her a chance to finish. I am turned and in Anya’s face.

Anya is equally puffed up ready for a fight but I don't give a shit. She hit Clarke and I am going to fuck up her face.

But Clarke is pulling at me yelling, “LEXA! Stop! Stop it! I HIT HER FIRST!”

I hear her, but I don’t want to process this. I don’t want to, but my eyes drop down to where Anya was rubbing earlier. I see the smallest indication that she too was sporting from their altercation.

“If you ever touch her again-“ but I don’t get to finish because Clarke has pushed herself between us and is pushing me back to the couch. Her finger poking me in the chest. “NO! You don’t do this shit. This is what gets you sent to jail and me put on blast on fucking Youtube. She came to help and I got pissed the moment I saw her. I smacked her before she could even get a word out, and that is not who I am. It’s not who yu are either. SO THIS STOPS NOW.”

I cower to her. I cower to the five foot nothing blonde staring down at me from my place on the couch below her. I look up and feel myself breaking. I’m breaking because I exchanged one dom for another. I am letting Clarke tell me what I can say, when I can say it, and when I am allowed to move.

So I push up from the couch, and she steps back some. Her eyes are startled as my hand shoots up and I point to Anya, “You’re no better than her. You just want me to bend to you. Do what you want when you want. Fuck this. I worried for the last hour about you because you couldn’t bother to pick up your phone and give me a heads up. I try to protect you, and you scream at me like a child.”

I’m shaking I’m so mad, and I see Clarke standing still in the center of the room. She is not looking at me. Her eyes trained on the floor like a scolded child. But I don't care. I can’t. I can’t care, because if I care then she will yell at me again.

“Lexa,” Anya says, and her voice is a steady command. I feel my head drop. Muscle memory I guess, but I fight it. I fight against.

I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m fucking important. I don’t have to live in this shit hole that I can’t even turn in. I should be out making the most of my life, not hiding out with a girl that doesn’t even want to be associated with me .

That’s what she told me after all. She told me that first night on Facebook that she didn’t want to be associated with me. Even after all I have done for her. Even after I let her set all the rules and I just went with it.

My head shoots up and I am pointing at Anya, “You have no power over me. I am Lexa fucking Trikru.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me. I swear it has to be like this. There is a reason for everything...


	24. Deals and Contingency Plans

**~Clarke~**

I glance up only for a moment, before I look down. I can’t look at her like this. I can’t move, only frozen in place as she rages around me. Her words so loud they beat against me. Its as though they are searching for purchase. Looking for an opening, until they slice between my ribs. Each one attacking my chest, as though their goal is to sever the remnants of my poorly stitched heart.

Her words strike like daggers. Each cut a little deeper than the previous. The blades grooved into waves, so the slices become uneven. The tears of emotional chaos a little worse coming out than going in.

“You’re no better than her,” slides up and under the 13th rib, and punctures my diaphragm. I cannot speak.

“You just want me to bend to you,” twists, as my lung is nicked and I can feel the air leaking out.

It’s pulled free, and I buckle a little at the waist. “Do what you want; when you want.” Plunging deeper, and tearing up the rest of my lung. I struggle to breath, depending on the other side.

My heart pounding as adrenal begs me to run away. But there’s not enough oxygen in my cells to move. As the slowly begin to die.

“Fuck this. I worried for the last hour about you because you couldn’t bother to pick up your phone and give me a heads up.” I hear her and know that I hadn’t called her. Not wanting for her leave before I could tell her I could be strong. I’m not strong though. I’m not strong enough and I am bleeding with every thrust.

Her blade cracks against my sternum shoving it as my heart presses against the other side. Beating against the only barrier left. Fighting to survive. “I try to protect you, and you scream at me like a child.”

But the end. The end of her words, as Lexa points at Anya with a shaking finger and face twisted and distorted into something unrecognizable. The end is the worse. The end where she returns to the terrifying person that had dissipated over the last several weeks.

“You have no power over me. I am Lexa fucking Trikru.” Her body is so close, as she holds the blade that is so close to ending me. I can’t run away, but I can’t stand any longer. I reach out, finding balance on the only thing within reach.

I place my hand on Lexa’s chest. I can feel her heart beating the drum beat of war. Its frightening how alive she feels, while I am slowly bleeding out. I press my palm against her chest, and feel her hate-filled eyes dropped to me.

Quietly, with the only air I have remaining, I tell her, “I am not your dom, Lexa. I am just girl.”

I feel the tear slip lose. Freeing itself from my failing form, to build a life when I am gone. Because if I lose her too, then there is nothing left. The child that I will never be a mother to. The job I failed to keep. The love I’m about to lose.

So I tell her. I tell her the final words before I have nothing left to give. Carefully, I say, “I don’t love Lexa fucking Trikru, but I do love you.”

I tighten my fingers in her shirt. Holding on to her. Trying to pull the woman I have been falling for back to me. Pull her out from the armor of Lexa fucking Trikru that she has buried herself behind.

I feel her hands on me. Her hands holding me, but I am scared. I am scared that she will crush me. I’m scared that I am too late. That I pushed her too hard.

I wait as the blood seeping invisibly through my thin black t-shirt. I wonder as I feel it all pumping out of me if this is it. If I met the woman of my dreams only to lose her with everything else in one fail swoop.

She doesn’t say anything.

She doesn’t utter a word, clearly sheathing her blades. Her arms wraps around me, and I feel my legs swopped out from under me. Her body cradling me, as I fold within myself.

My body giving up, but we are moving. She is moving me from the room until we are in the tighter space of my twelve by twelve bedroom. I feel her lower me to the bed, but helps me sit up. Her body on her knees at my feet, head bowed and in my lap.

Lexa fucking Trikru, as quickly as she appeared has dissipated into the sobbing mess on my lap. Replacing the strong person with the submissive being choking out apology after apology.

“I can’t do this with her watching, but for you I am weak. I am weak, and I want to be strong. I want to be the alpha protector. I want to be the one to stand for you and with you,” she says.

I run my fingers through her soft curls. I rub my fingers over her scalp and feel her start to calm down. Carefully, I pull on her head, until she is sitting back on her heels, with her arms resting around my waist. Her eyes reluctantly looking up at me.

Green bright against the blood shot whites. She whispers, “I lost it, but I just wanted to protect you. I didn’t mean what I said. You’re not her.”

I shake my head though. I shake my head, and feel as through my body has begun to clot and seal the open wounds. Sealing what is left of me, and fulfilling the promise of a continued fight for survival.

“You meant what you said. You said it because you felt like I am trying to control you. That I was scolding you. And I was, but I wasn’t.”

She is getting ready to lower her head again, but I pull at the simple red t-shirt clinging to her lightly. I am pulling at her, as I tell her, “Stand up, Alphie.”

Her head tilts to the side, and she asks, “Alphie?”

I smile, “You’re the alpha, so stand up and let’s face this together… because I need you, Alpha. I need you to help me figure out what we need to do.”

She is looking at me, but she stands. Her body towering over me, and I too stand. I stand and press my body against hers. Wrapping my arms around her waist as she holds me around my head.

“I lost my job today,” I admit to her. “I lost my job and I didn’t call you because I didn’t want you to leave before I got home.” I pause, but I am not done yet. “I was scared that I have nothing left. I feel like I am losing everything, and I didn’t want to lose you too.”

Lexa’s grip tightens, and she says, “Clarke, I can support us both. I can take care of you, if you let me. I can and I will.”

“I don’t want you to support me though. I want to hold my half. I want to be your partner, not the low life you have to support because she can’t support herself,” I tell her, but I am still shaking some. “I’m going to try to fight it. I’m going to try and fight the board since its my mo-Abby… “ I take a breath, because she is right, she is not my mother. A mother wouldn’t do this to her. “She’s not my mom, but she is the one that is trying to ruin me. But… Lexa, Anya is trying to help.”

Her voice is soft, as she says, “I know. She apologized for leaving me before you came in.”

I feel my chest clenching. Did Lexa want to go back to Anya? I mean she loved her. She probably still loves her. It’s not like Lexa said I love you back. So what if…

I don’t know what to think. I am just completely void of anything other than the possibility that Lexa may want to go back to Anya. After everything.

I don’t know how the words come out, and they’re barely above a whisper, but they are there. Hanging in the air, “Lex, if you want her, then you should go for her.”

The words hurt coming out, but Clarke knew from experience that fighting for someone to stay when all they want to do is run away is a fruitless effort.

Lexa’s hands found my face then. They push me away some as they cup my cheeks. My face could be covered by the expanse of her massive hands, but yet they are so smooth and gentile as she holds me still. Emerald irises flecked with gold gaze down on me.

I can’t read her expression, but the way her jaw moves, I can tell she is literally chewing on her words. Breaking them down probably to to make sure that whatever explanation she is going to give me will not be misunderstood or hurt more. Her reasons for choosing Anya.

“Princessa, I’m not leaving you,” she finally says. “You’re the one I want to spend my life with. You and Jacky, and if you want more kids then them too. But Klarke, you must know that you are the one that I want. “

I am trying to process her words, but they don’t make sense. It sounds like she is saying she wants me, but I can’t be hearing her correctly. I am nothing. Even my own… Abby doesn’t want me. I’m not good enough for Jacky. Raven wanted something else. There is not reason for Lexa Trikru to want me.

But then she says the words. The words that bind us, I realize I did not miss hear her. “Clarke Madison Griffin, I love you. Only you. And one day… one day I am going to ask you to be my wife.”

Her lips pressed against mine then. Leaving me no room to over think her words. Leaving me no chance to consider what she just purposed.

Her lips pressed against mine. Soft and sweetly connected to me, and coaxing my mouth open, until her tongue carefully entered my mouth. Her tongue stroking against mine, reminding me that together we are stronger.

I pul into her tighter, her hand moving to the back of my neck. Moving me up closer, and deeping the kiss, until we are dancing together without moving our feet. Our hearts beating steadily as one. Lexa’s hands move down and pick me up to wrap my legs around her waist. My arms hooked under hers as she shifts us up onto the bed. Her body collapsing against mine, and pressing me into the bed.

Our rutting becomes stronger as our lips seek each other out. Lexa’s hand holding me to the bed by that special spot on my chest. Her hand healing the wounds her words had caused as her body presses to mine.

We are interrupted though, but the calm voice in the doorway, “While I always enjoy a good porn, Johnson charges me by the hour.”

Lexa pulls back and looks to where Anya is standing. Her eyes are fixed on us unwavering, and for a second I wonder if she is jealous. Jealous of what Lexa has with me. Jealous of who Lexa has become with me. But I can’t really believe that. She is a person that thrives off control, and not having a compliant Lexa means she doesn’t have control.

I pull back Lexa, head and press a kiss to her lips.

She smiles into the kiss, saying “Mine.”

“Yours,” I answer.

~~~~~

We sit at the small table outside sense it is the only place with four chairs. Anya refused to say in the living room, and was continuously picking individual hairs from her pants.

Johnson placed the papers on the table. They were complex and filled with legal jargon words that even though I knew the words didn’t mean I understood them in this context.

“Today, I met with Judge Wallace. He has determined that Dr. Griffin’s stripping your visitation was unjustified; therefore, he is granted you temporary visitation for every weekend. He is concerned about disrupting Jacky’s week day schedule at the moment since she has just started school. We have a hearing in thirty days to demonstrate you are employed and financially stable to retain full custody of you daughter.”

I blink a few times. _Thirty days is before Christmas_. I look up to Lexa, and I say, “Lex, she could be home for Christmas.” Lexa’s smile was broad and she nodded silently.

When I look over at Anya, I see her watching Lexa’s face. Her eyes warm and loving, and for a moment I wish she would have seen Lexa for who she was when they were married. I have no doubt that they could have made things work.

“Thank you, Anya. I don’t know how I will repay you,” I say.

Anya waved her hand at me though. She voice slightly off as she says, “It’s nothing really. I mean it was my sister’s fault you lost your visitation to begin with.”

She glances over me, and then says, “I have one more proposition though, and you may not approve, but I want to make sure that this investment I have made to your little family is not wasted.”

I look over at Lexa who is also staring at Anya. I think she is trying to judge whether to trust Anya or not. I too struggle with this; however, Anya has been nothing if not true to her words thus far.

“I do not wish to ever enter the home that Lexa and I purchased together,” she starts. I am slightly confused when her eyes shifts to Lexa, “Since the divorce has yet to be filed, my suggestion is that we place it on the market immediately. The market is tilted towards sellers. Following the sale, I would like to suggest that we split the sale, so you and Clarke may find a place that is more suitable for people our size.”

I look between the two and the way they watch each other. Quietly Lexa asks, “Where will you go?”

Anya smiles, “I promised your dear girlfriend’s sister a date, so I suppose I will need a place to stay in Phoenix. However, as of now I am a free agent. My contract ended with Chicago, and I feel as though I may be ready to come back home.” She runs her hands up and down her body, “I mean I am not one that enjoys living in an ice nature or near a mountain.”

Anya wants to come back to Phoenix. Anya wants to come back to Phoenix and date Raven. My Raven. My Raven that broke up with me claiming she was straight. But she is possibly going out on a date with Anya that is far from straight. Anya the dom. Anya that could break my sister. Break my best friend.

I am shaking my head, “No.”

Everyone’s eyes are on me then, and I say it again, “No, you can’t have my sister. I can’t have you did to Lexa happen to my sister. She is brilliant and amazing, just like Lexa. I can’t have her hurt like that.”

I see Anya’s eyes darken and her shoulder slump only minutely, but its enough to show that she understood me. “Lexa has changed so much, in just a few short months. What makes you think I have not also?”

I consider this. Everyone can change, just like Lexa changed. Just like I have changed. But could Anya give up that part of herself? That is really the question that is eating at me, and making me take this stand. This stand to protect Raven.

“If you hurt her…” I start but I don’t even know where to go. I mean where could I go with that. What could I do to hurt Anya Winters. The woman that single handedly swooped in and rescued Jacky for me. May potentially save my job.

Lexa squeezes my hand she has been holding though. Her fingers tighten then loosen. “We will be there to support Raven; however, we have to let them make their own decisions.”

Lexa turns to Anya, and nods, “I agree to selling the house; however, Clarke and I will decide if and when we are ready to move at another time _together_.”

It’s crazy to hear Lexa say that we would make this decision together. But I can’t dwell on this and give it a complete critical analysis, because again we are interrupted.

“Clarke, I cannot stress enough though that at the hearing you will need to show yourself as financially stable. Therefore, you need to either be employed or married to someone who is,” she explains, and I feel as though another shoe has dropped.

I baulk at him, “You cannot be suggesting what I think you are suggesting?”

He holds up his hands, “I am just the legal counsel. I can only tell you that if you are unable to return to work then you need to be legally fixed to someone with enough money to support yourself and your daughter.” His eyes glance awkwardly to Lexa.

When I look at her, I see her equally questioned look, and a reddish blush to her tanned cheeks.

“Lexa, no,” I say.

But she just turns her gaze to me, and holds my hand a little tighter. Her words careful as she says, “We will fight for your job, Princessa. However, if it come to marrying me to Jacky back, then I hope you don’t see this as the worst possible solution.”

I am up then, “Lexa, we had rules. I cannot depend on you to support me, nor would I ever position myself to be you house wife. I’m a teacher, Lex. I can’t just-“

Lexa is up then, and her finger to my lips, “I know, baby. I know. So we will fight Abby. But I am going to marry you Clarke Griffin. Whether it be in three weeks or three years, or thirty years. I am going to marry you.” Her strength is undeniable in this claim, and its almost like her stance she took earlier this evening only helped her build to this moment. To being strong enough to support her position, and me know that she is doing this for her, for her and me and Jacky.

_Jacky could be home for Christmas._

> And she was. Jacky was home for that Christmas. We just never expected where home was going to be that year. We never expected how easily we fell into a two parent household, nor that Lexa would accept a contract that would tear our little family apart to travel for several months to Europe.
> 
> No, nothing is ever what I expected it to be. But I guess that is how we needed up here. How we ended up writing this book together. We wanted to explain that nothing is just simple, and wanted to show that people do change.
> 
> I mean we hadn’t even really made it too far yet, and so much more still happened in that year. So much happened and so many set backs. Yeah, I wish it could have just been easy. I wish it just would have worked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah yeah, I know you hate me... its okay just please leave me your comments. AnD PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE hit the kudos buttons. I have a dream of breaking a 1000!


	25. Thank you fan fiction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT READ IN A PUBLIC SETTING! :)

**~Lexa~**

It had been two days since the meeting with Johnson and Anya. The house was on the market, and I found myself bouncing back and forth between tabs of Lexa Trikru fanfiction and a website showing different homes for sale, while I lay sprawled across the couch. Clarke was tapping away at her computer and it appeared like she was paying bills, so I was avoiding her for the most part.

We had plans to attend Octavia’s Black Belt ceremony tonight, but that was still a few hours away.

Clarke still refused to consider moving into a new house, but I was hoping if I could find one that met her dreams she would stop saying no and start saying maybe. I have a tentative list of her dreams, like a wrap around porch, and a garage that is not in front of the house. She wanted a large yard for Jacky and Rexa, so that there could be a swing set. She wanted an open floor plan, and said only a pool if it already had a gate.

The search was hard, because most of what Clarke was looking for broke her biggest concern. Her ability to pay half of all the bills and mortgage, refusing to allow me to pay the majority or even two thirds. _Like seriously why does she have to make this so difficult?_

I click back to the fanfiction site, and refresh the page. As it loads I see a new a-b-o tag show up. I’m not sure how I have missed this one, since it appears to have been going on for at least a few weeks. But what strikes me almost immediately in the tags is that Clarke is named along with Anya.

 _“The Little Omega”_ _and they are listing Clarke?_

I start reading, and instantly become amused. The short chapters in the beginning make it a quick read, rising my sexual tension, as I realize that there is a chance that who ever this author is I want to find them, and strangle them for claiming Clarke for Anya.

Clarke’s mine, not Anya’s. I’m the big Alpha, but Anya is like running the show. My face is getting flustered, and I am so focused at Anya knotting Clarke, that I miss the fact that Clarke has made it into the living and is sitting next to me.

“What are you reading?” she asks, and startles me. Startles me to the point that I pull up my ipad to my chest, trying to hide the story.

I smile weakly, “Uh… just… a fanfic about me…”

She squints her eyes at me then, and says, “What are you hiding?”

She reaches out to grab the iPad from me, but I hold it up and out of reach from her little arms. I am shaking my head, but Clarke plays dirty. Since I am still holding it out too far, she crawls into my lap. Straddling me, and pressing down against my already frustrated form. I had ready one to many smut scenes of me fucking my way through a variety of AUs.

Her lips press to my neck, and she grinds her core against me. I feel my hand drop the her hip, pressing her down as I rub my thumb against her hip. She is kneading my breast and I drop my other hand.

A faulty mistake, but I want to pull her into kissing me. As soon as my hand is in reach though, Clarke grips the iPad and rips it from my grip. For someone so tiny, she moves so quickly. Her finger running over the screen. But she freezes about half way to the bedroom, and turns to me.

Her face is red and eyes wide. She is pointing to the screen, and saying, “Lexa this is about us and Anya. Someone is writing about you and Anya… you and Anya fucking me with giant Alpha dicks.”

I hold up my finger, “Well technically I haven’t actually seen if anyone gets to fuck you, but apparently Anya pisses you off, which throws you into my tent.” I raise my eyes brows a few times, but her eyes have fallen as she flips through the screens.

I am not sure how many chapters in, but her face turns read.

I am moving towards her, but she sets the iPad down on the chair. She sets it down and grabs my hand. She is dragging me to the bedroom, and as we go, she is tugging at her clothes.

She is practically naked by the time she gets to the bedroom, and when she turns she is frustrated to see that I am not equally nude. I am so confused though. I mean thirty seconds ago she seemed angry, and now I am pretty sure her eyes are dilated, and I am pretty sure she about to fuck me senseless. I am not sure if this is right, but she is pulling my shirt off, and her lips are instantly attacking my nipple.

I groan, and my hand is pulling her deeper into my chest, as her fingers tug my shorts and my chonies off. They are at my ankles as her face moves south, and I feel her mouth nipping at the small v pointing down to where I want her most. I step out my pants as her hand move up to my ass.

I feel her squeeze, as her tongue traces over my folds. It feels unbelievable, but the how we got here is still gnawing at me. “Kla..arke,” I croak out.

Her tongue hums in response, just as she twirls the tip over my hood. I am not sure I can even continue, because I don’t want to fuck up whatever is happening. But I have to. I have to understand what is going on.

I reach down, running my fingers through her hair, as she licks up me. I pull her head back then by her hair and tilt her head back. Looking down into her dark eyes, I ask, “What just happened?”

She smiles innocently, “You pumping at your Alpha dick made me all hot and I figured I would enjoy this time since we have it.”

I groan, but I still don’t release. No, she doesn’t get to read some story where she is Anya’s first, and then make me cum. I shake my head, with a small pout, “You were with Anya.”

She nods, explaining, “Some character of me was with Anya, but I am with you. I mean you were with Anya too, so why can’t I take advantage of having you right here.”

I look down at her, and tug her up. She rises back to her feet. Her face slightly defeated. I press a kiss to her lips, tasting myself. I run my tongue over her lips enjoying how I taste on her lips.

As I break away, I lean my head to hers and whisper, “I want you.”

She smiles and she nods, her voice so soft as she says, “Take me, Lexi.”

Clarke doesn’t have to tell me twice. In fact, I am concerned she may change her mind, so I scoop her up and dump her on the bed. Crawling up between her legs like an over eager kid on Christmas. I know I should take it slow, but seriously for a a week now I have made love to just her breasts.

So I don’t wait. I don’t kiss her everywhere. No, I spread her before me, and swipe my tongue through the tangy sweetness of Clarke’s sex. Her hips immediately bucking in my mouth, as her fingers grip my hair.

“Fuuuukkkk,” she moans out. One of her hands leaves my head, and I watch as she reaches up and holds on to the head board. I smile and lick another straight line from her entrance to her clit. She bucks again, and I remember that is has been seven years since she has felt a tongue on her, so I swirl around it. Then I again give her broad strokes applying pressure to her clit.

Taking a hand I reach up and pinch her nipple, pulling a squeal out from the panted breaths that she is taking. Her voice so beautiful in my ears, ever subtle moan making me love her more.

Dropping my hand down, I rub my index finger at her entrance. She chokes out, “Yes! Please… please Lexa, I want you inside of me.”

Like everything in this moment, I don’t want for more. Pressing my finger within her, and hooking it up, just like fanfiction taught me. I press inside and search for that spot that I swear these writers make it sound like its so fucking easy to find. But it’s not.

No, I am stroking, and licking, and finally I must hit the spot because Clarke is cumming without warning. Her abs shaking, and legs tight around my head, holding in my place. I running my finger inside more, but pull my tongue back, licking at her lips.

I didn’t expect it to be that easy. But Clarke was panting, and her body still shaking. Gradually her thighs release me so I can kiss my way up her body. Wanting to provide her with the same loving care she always gave me. The way that she would hold me and make my feel safe. I pull my finger from within her, and I watch her eyes open.

They are still dark and when I kiss her tongue is chilled. I love that feeling. The way a woman’s tongues turns to ice with she cums. Its how I know for sure I did well.

Her voice is gravelly from panting, but she says, “You ready to become an animal, Alpha?”

I cock a brow as her, as my fingers are running over her beautiful stomach. I run my hand down, touching her cunt that she finally let me taste. Giving herself over to me.

Clarke smiles and pulls away. Rolling to the side of the bed, she rummages in the drawer pulling out a blue dong and a nylon strap.

I smile, and nod eagerly. She starts to hand it to me, but she pulls to back and looks at me hesitantly, “It’s been a long time, Lex.”

I slow my movements, and I nod. I am honest and raw, “I will go at your pace. You tell me what you want. I don’t move until you tell me yes?”

She nods and slowly hands me the strap. I take it from her, but she doesn’t release it until my lips meet hers. We kiss for several minutes, just getting back in the motions of being conjoined.

When we break, Clarke helps me get into the strap. Our movements careful, and planned. She smiles when she sees me with the seven inch dick strapped to my cunt as I pose flexing my arm muscles. She giggled at me, but gets on her hand and knees and shakes her ass in front of me.

Reach up and swat her lightly. There is no resonating sound or even the slightest hint of a mark, ad she presses back against me. I rub the silicon against her, tapping the head to her still sensitive clit.

She arched her back with sensation. I rub the dick between her legs, and watch as it becomes slick with the arousal and cum from her prior orgasm. When it’s ready, I position it at her entrance, and ask, “Are you ready, Klark?”

I run my finger tips up her back, as she relaxes into my touch. I revel in this moment because Anya never left her back exposed to me, and never let me take her from behind. Clarke’s back is pale and soft. Lightly covered in a thing sheen of sweat, but her skin prickled under my finger tips.

Clarke whispered, “Yes, take me.”

I hold the dick in my hand as I push carefully into her. Her pussy clenching down on the object, as it pressed against my clit pleasantly. I feel amazing. I feel powerful. And I all I want is for Clarke to feel complete bliss.

I slide in carefully, taking several moments to pull back before pushing back in. Testing her depth, until I bottom out within her. Her soft moans are beautiful, and I can see her lips shaped as an “o” in the full length mirror cross the bed from us.

She’s beautiful, and I fall more in love with her. The way she leans back into me. Her ass pressing against me. I lean forward and pull her up into my arms. Her body held against me and a grind my hips into her. Short shallow thrusts that have her falling back against me. Her body calling to me as I suck my mark into her neck. Right in at her pulse point.

I fight the urge to bite into her flesh, because I know this is a fantasy and my dick is not going to tie to her. I lower her body down, as she cries out to me, “Fuck me, Lexa!”

And I do. I pull out, and plunge back in. Taking her with long strokes. I hope I am hitting that special spot, but really who the fuck knows that. I mean I was inside her with my fingers and I am still not even sure I was hitting the spot.

But Clarke is calling out. She is calling out for me, “Fuck! Alpha, please don’t ever stop fucking me!”

I pump into her, feeling my sex screaming in pleasure and begging for release. But I can’t. I can’t yet because she needs to fall apart first.

“Mine,” I tell her.

My abs are tightening and I feel that edge coming even though I am fighting it. It’s harder though when she says, “Yours! I’m all yours.”

Gripping onto her hips, I know that there is a chance her skin will bare my possessive mark, but I don’t care. I pull out and slam back in because she is screaming at me, “Harder, fucking take me, Lek-sa!”

So I do. Our skin slapping as I fuck her senseless. Her arms giving out as her back arches and I feel her push back into me. Her muscles spasm again as she screams out my name.

Never has my names sounded so beautiful, and I topple over. My body hitting hers. My cock hilted in her and rutting into her cunt as my abs contract. Riding her through her orgasm as sparks flash behind my eye lids, and I roar, “Ka-Larke!”

I am sitting up when I come to. My hips pressed against her, as she leans back holding her up.

I go to pull back, but Clarke asks, “Can we just kinda move to the side. I’m not ready to lose you yet.”

I feel my pride swell, as I nod. I tell her softly, “Of course, my little omega.”

I see her soft smile in the mirror, and feel her body chuckle lightly as I pull her top up in my arms carefully. Pretending I am knotted within her. “Did you enjoy your fantasy?” she asks as we gradually lower down to the bed on the side.

I grip her tighter to me, and press kisses to the back of her neck and just under her ear. “You are so beautiful, and I love you Clarke. I love you so much.”

She presses back into my arms and my kisses. Her body forming into me. Her own breath whispering out, “I love you, Lexi, and I am your little omega. You will never have to share me.”

I smile, and nuzzle my face into her hair. Inhaling her Herbal Essence total chaos mixed with the musky scent of our sweat and climax. I hold her as we both slip off into sleep. My arms protectively around her, as an alpha should.

And I make a mental note to write whoever short_stack_100 is a really long and appreciative comment about how amazing they are, but ask them to have Anya keep her fucking hands off my omega.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already, then you should read my friend Shorti's piece called "The Little Omega".
> 
> ALSO, say thank you for fluff with no angst!


	26. Dicks and Dilemmas

**~Lexa~**

We woke with plenty of spare time before Octavia’s meet. The day seems to be moving so slowly, but really I am not complaining. I mean what’s there to complain about? Clarke gave me the reins for the first time and let me live out a fantasy.

I’m in the kitchen with the blue toy and I am trying to figure out what to do with it. I mean it needs to be cleaned and I’m not even really sure how to clean this thing. I look it over again, and decide the dishwasher is probably my best plan. I place it in the top rack by itself and put it in the gentile cycle.

Content with my work, I look around the kitchen. It’s spotless already, and I don’t honestly have anything to do. I can hear Clarke singing in the shower. She doesn’t realize that her showering is one of m favorite parts of living with her. When she sings, her voice is just so pure and filled with this defiance to settle for anything.

I stand against the counter for a few moments just listening to Clarke belt out the course of some country song that I honestly am not familiar with.

Thinking about the toy in the dishwasher, I decide to do a little snooping. I head into the bedroom and go through the drawer that Clarke had pulled the toy from. I find the drawer relatively empty. There is a small purple cylinder that comes to life when I tap the button on the bottom, and the one that she gave me a blowjob with the first time. What seems to be missing is really anything that I am used to. There are no silk ropes, no lube, no candles, let a lone a variety of dicks or edging devices. I bite the inside of my cheek. I want to have more options. I want to have the stuff for Clarke to take more control over me.

I don’t know what gets into me, but we finally entered into the next step in our relationship and I want to get us something; something new that we can break in together. I grab my keys and call back to Clarke that I will be back.

~~~~~

The trip to the closest toy store really isn’t too far, and it gives me a chance to drive through a Starbucks. I text Clarke for her drink order and I am exasperated by the ridiculous drink that she answers me back with. I feel like more of an idiot as I stumble through some nonsense about pumps of something and that she even has a specification of how much ice she wants in the cup.

This is really the first time I have gotten a glimpse of Clarke’s princess attitude. When the girl in the green apron hands me the milky beverage through the window, I stare at it for a minute before shoving the straw in it and taking a sip. It is sweet and milky, and nope, nope, nope. I do not like it. Chasing it with my iced coffee, I glare at the offense substance in my car. I will definitely have to work on Clarke’s taste in drinks.

At the stop light, I peak into the bag and take a gander at my purchases. There are pink silk ropes, a variety of massage oils. I got us a dick that is a little more my size, and I hope that Clarke likes it. I mean, I really want to feel her fucking me with it.

The light turns green, and I drive towards our house. The house that Jacky gets to come to this weekend. The house that Clarke and I are going to break in over the next two days that she is home.

Yeah, everything is going to be fucking fantastic.

~~~~~

The house is quiet when I come inside, but I am freaking out because Raven’s truck and John’s car are both parked out front meaning everyone is here somewhere. I have the black bag in my hand. I drop it in the bedroom, but take out the new dildo so I can clean it before I put it away. I’m in the kitchen tearing open the packaging when I hear the laughter coming from the back yard. Peaking through the window, I see the three around the tiny table. Raven is already hitting a joint while Clarke and John are arguing over something very animatedly. My imagination takes off for a minute, and I picture a larger yard and the three sitting under a pergola while I grill and Jacky play on a jungle gym.

Getting lost in my dreamland, I lose track of how long I have been standing there. I only come to when I see Raven making her way into the house. Into the house where I am standing in the kitchen while I still hold a fucking dildo in my hand.

I look around the kitchen and realize there is no good place for me to hide this, so I do the best I can. I open the microwave, and push the dick into small opening just as Raven comes in with a huge smile.

“Hey,” she says and makes her way to the living room, “I have a present for you and Princess.”

I follow her as I hear the other two making their way inside as well. Rexa is barking around them; her paws dancing as the floorboards squeak. I am just inside of the living when I hear John state, “I’m going to make some popcorn.”

My heart is pounding, but I can’t even move because Raven is swinging a purple dick in my face. A purple dick that looks identical to the one that John is yelling about moments later.

“There’s a dick in the microwave!”

I feel my body melting. Melting away as my insides burn in embarrassment. I slowly look over to Clarke, who looks equally mortified and confused.

“Uh, Lex?” she asks, but I can’t answer. I don’t even know how to explain what is going on or why there are penises everywhere.

I shake me head, and grumble an apology. I’m not even sure what I am sorry for, since Raven is waving a dick at me that clearly she bought for Clarke. I am just not okay with my girlfriend’s ex buying her a dildo. I don’t care if they call each other sisters. It’s just not okay.

I hear John moving around the kitchen then. He is opening every door and then I hear the only door that would make me feel even worse. The dishwasher.

“I found another!” he calls. He tapes the kitchen door, saying, “I dub thee the house of ball-less pricks.”

He is twirling both dicks in his hands, John is attempting to swing them around like daggers, but Clarke strips him of the toys and is very quickly beating him with loud _thunks_ all over his torso.

She is laughing, as she John falls to the floor with his hands up begging, “Please Princess, I promise…” _Thunk!_ “I promise I won’t talk about your house… ever again!”

With John submitting on the floor, Clarke turned on Raven who was holding up her own dick and waving it. Raven’s smile was huge, and she swipes at one of the dicks in her Clarke’s hands, tossing it to the side.

“Princess, you know you are no match for me,” she says through fits a hearty laughter. Clarke braces herself for attack, but I grab the dick from her hand and launch a full attack on the other girl.

Raven is shocked as I swipe the dick across her head, knocking her back and into the chair. She looked up at me, nothing but rage replacing previous laughter.

“You hit me with a dick!” she yelled.

I smile, and waggle the wang at her. It’s nothing less than a challenge, but its worth it. I say to her, “You do not get to buy Clarke a dick.”

She laughs, “Scared she will think of me while she fucks you with it.”

I freeze for a second, giving Raven a chance to gain the upper hand. She is pummeling me with strike after strike, spitting out challenges, “I can’t… help it… that I know how she likes her cocks,” and “I was tapping that before you even know how to wear a strap!”

I should be this upset but each strike with her continuous reminders that she was there first has my blood boiling. I am about to pounce, when the hits suddenly stop. I open my eyes to see Clarke on Raven’s back. In her hand, she is bringing down strike after strike over Raven’s head.

Raven is teetering, unstable under Clarke’s weight. But my bubbly blonde does not faulter in her attack. Only hopping off the other girl’s back, and proceeding to rain down more and more hits across the girls back and ass. Raven turned quickly to face my baby, and she waves her own dick.

Clarke points harshly at her, and says, “You may have been the first…” and then her hand gestures to me, “But hers will be my last!”

Raven let’s out a Xena battle cry, and I know there is not much I can do to stop her attack. But I want to defend Clarke, so I do the only think I can do.

I step between them. Raven’s harsh jab hitting me in the back near my kidney. Slowly, I sink to my knees before the blonde goddess. Her eyes huge and shocked, as I collapse most of my weight into her outstretched arms. My hand comes up dramatically, and I run my fingers over her face. I say, “My Princess. My love. I will die for your honor!”

Clarke lowers down with me, cradling my huge body in true Romeo and Juliet tragedy style. Her fingers running over my cheek, as I tell her, “I love you, Clarke. Don’t forget me.” I add a fake cough just for show before I throw my head back and convulse slightly before going limp.

Clarke gingerly sets me down. I pop open one eye and watch her shaking her dangling dong at Raven who is standing by proudly. “I curse your house and kin!” she shouts, letting out her own battle cry. She attempts to launch over me, but her legs are little and my body huge, and her foot finds me right in the gut.

I cough out as she falls forward over me, hitting me and the ground. What little air is left in me is now gone as I cough. Clarke is moving over me. Striking me with clumsy elbows and a few knees. I begin to see how it was possible for her to fall into Raven’s crotch.

“Princessa,” I groan, “You’re killing me. Hold still!” I tell her. She stops moving enough for me to shift and get the bulk of her weight off my chest without anymore jabs.

Her hands are on my face, and she is kissing me everywhere.

“You live, my love,” she says, pressing more wet sloppy kisses all over my lips, my cheeks, and my eyes.

I laugh in her arms, and Raven is laughing with John. Raven holds up her dick then, and says, “Well since you already have one, I guess I’ll keep this for myself.”

Her eyebrows rise though and she waggles it at John, “Unless you want it? Or are you still swearing that Bellamy wasn’t poking your prostate that one time-“

John’s face turns red, as he babbles, “We were just.... we…”

“Just bumping balls to booty,” Raven says, putting the dick in his hand. “No judgment brother. That man is fit and handsome, and it’s not like I didn’t hit that too!”

Clarke rolls her eyes, and calls back, “Is there anyone you haven’t slept with, Ray?”

Raven shrugs, replying, “I believe that sex in important in keeping my sanity, so as of now the only person I have not fucked is your dear commander. However, I think fucking her ex may be close enough.”

I watch as Clarke’s eyes get stormy, and her head snaps up. I’m not sure why she is so angry at the possibility of Raven and Anya. I mean it’s not like it's a shock. Anya made it clear her intentions, but she seems seriously pissed. She’s up within a second, with her hands on her hips. She stares Raven down, and says, “You didn’t.”

Raven nodded then, and slid down onto the couch, “But I did.”

“How could you?” the blonde almost yells.

The mood has changed so dramatically that I feel like I’m getting whiplash. _Why is she so angry?_

I don’t have to wait long though. I definitely get an answer to the question, because Clarke’s hands are waving, and she is yelling. “You said you were straight. You broke my fucking heart, Raven, because you swore you were straight.”

I look over at Raven and see awareness dawning there, as I feel it in my chest exploding my heart like I walked over an IED. Clarke is still in love with Raven.


	27. Triggers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but it has been a crazy crazy week. I have been sick, not like a little sick, like dying sick. I also started my foster parent certification. In twelve weeks, I will become a parent to two little kiddos with the goal to open our home to a total of five kids. 
> 
> This chapter was really hard to write, and Lowiiie and I spent a great deal of time plotting and planning. Needless to say, I hope you are still enjoying our story, and please please leave us comments. I know personally they like make my day, even the "You are satan," comments. 
> 
> Love you all, and if you wanna chat hit me up on tumblr. Its the same as my name, or you can shoot me an email also my name at the gmail.

**~Clarke~**

_How could she lie to me? Why couldn’t she just tell me that she wasn’t that into me? Like why didn’t she trust me enough to just be honest with me?_

I am not even mad that she is bi or whatever. I am pissed that for the last eight years she lied to me. She’s my best friend. She’s my sister.

_We share things._

_Every aspect_

_of our lives._

_She did not_

_just keep it_

_though. No,_

_she just lied._

_She just lied,_

_like I would_

_not find out._

_Never know_

_that she lied._

_Never know_

_I wasn’t what_

_She   wanted._

_Never would be good enough for her._

_I will never be good enough for this life._ **I E S.**

My hands are clenched, and I am so angry. The fun moments of family drama and Lexa finally seeming to get along with Raven is past. No, the only thing encompassing me is the question of how many other things she has lied about.

Raven’s eyes are dark and they seem sad. Her body slouched on my couch, as I stand still with Lexa at my feet. I should be worried about Lexa and what she thinks of this, and that I am not behaving properly. How can I though? I mean, RAVEN LIED TO ME FOR EIGHT FUCKING YEARS!!!

I move to the door, and throw it open. Without a word, I do something I have never done in my life. I hold out my hand in silence pointing to the street. I don’t have to say a word. Raven knows what I expect. She knows me so well, but I don’t know her at all.

“Clarke,” she says. Her voice is low and broken, but who knows if that is not just another lie. Another game.

I shake my head, and just point. I won’t look at her. I won’t speak to her. There is nothing to say, because she has lied to me for eight fucking years like I couldn’t handle the truth.

The truth that she didn’t want me. I was just a girl to fuck, just like every once else. Just a body to get off on, and then leave. It won’t be too long before Lexa figures that out too.

At least I know now. I know now how Raven really feels about me. And that’s fine. I will show her. I will show her just like I’m going to show Abby. I’m going to show them that I’m more. That I’m stronger than they believe me too be.

Raven got up from the couch after a minute, with a heavy sigh. She didn’t move far, when she held up her hands, saying, “You’re not even going to let me explain?”

I don’t move, except my arm. Even then, the movement is just it shaking because a part of me is weak. A part of me wants to give in, but I can’t. I have to show her. I have to shower that I am more than she thought.

Raven lowers her head and is shaking it as she is walking out the door. She stops in the door frame, saying simply, “We promised to never close our door to each other.”

Raising my chin, I mirror, “We promised to never lie to each other.”

Raven leans against the door way with her feet jus ton the outside of the house. If I close the door it will hit her in the face. I consider it. I consider giving her the same pain she has given me, but really I know I already am.

She’s quiet, like she wants this conversation to be between just her and I. Like John and Lexa are not right behind me. Like I am even listening through the blood pulsing in my ears. “I didn’t want to hurt you worse. I was your friend and your sister, but I knew that the love I had for you was never going to equate to the type of love you have for Lexa. The type of love I had for Finn. And I wanted that love for you.”

I shake my head, because of course she has an excuse. An excuse for lying to me.

I hear John laugh for a moment awkwardly. He tells Lexa, “Lover’s quarrel. They do this all the time, only usually its at me.”

Then his voice is a little louder, “Why don't you both just fuck it out already!”

We both turn to him, and scream, “Shut the fuck up!”

I hear Rexa barking behind me. Its loud and the walls are shaking in all the waves of anger that are ricocheting like stray bullets looking for a body to land in. I know she doesn’t like when people are yelling, but the door opens then. Someone must be letting her out, and when I look back I see John gone, and Lexa is staring at the wall.

I don’t know why she is staring at the wall. _Why is she staring at the wall?_ But I don’t get a chance to ask her.

“Clarke!” Raven yells, and when I turn to see her, she is glaring at me. Her foot is in my door way, and she is angry. Anger is nothing I have ever seen from Raven before. She has taken my anger for years. Taken my rage. Taken my outbursts. Taken my abuse. Taken care of me drunk and covered in someone else’s bodily fluids so that Marcus didn’t give up on me.

I stand straighter, refusing to back down. Raven is a liar. A giant fucking liar, and she will not break me anymore.

“No! You don’t get to… get too…” I’m yelling but I am tripping over my words. “No, you don’t get to be mad after you lied to me! I don’t care you thought you were doing what is right. I would have understood, you bitch. I would have-“

Her hands were up and she was yelling back at me then. “You don’t understand shit, Clarke! You reject everyone that loves you! You act like this fucking victim in everything and everyone comes to rescue always.”

She is pointing at me then, “You have never been alone a day in your fucking life. Someone is always checking on their fucking princess. You rejected Abby when she wanted to be your mom. You rejected me when I wanted to be your friend. You rejected Lexa at first. You reject everyone and live in your own fucking pity party.”

She’s back in my house then and so close to me. Her body shaking as she stands those few inches taller than me. Looking down at me. Making me feel smaller by the second, “You are a selfish bitch. You fuck shit up, and only when _you_ decide you want to be better you throw a fit when you don’t get your fucking way.”

She’s only an inch or two from my face when she says, “You threw your own baby away, and wouldn’t even see her for the first year.”

It hurt. The truth behind every single one of her words. Hurt, and her finger poked my in the tit, “You gave Jacky to Abby and told her you never wanted to see her, and now you expect Abby to just give that precious little angel back to you? You expect the world to just start turning again because you decide to be apart of it?”

It’s not that easy. She knew it wasn’t that easy. That I wanted to see her, but I knew. I knew it would be that much worse when Abby took her away again.

> Raven’s truth hurt so bad that day. But she was right. Mom brought Jacky to see me every weekend. She sent me photos and I shattered the cell phone against a wall. She tried to even convince me to come back home and be a family. I didn’t want it though. I didn’t decide I really wanted to be a mom until Raven made me go to her first birthday. She forced me. Forced me to get my shit together.

I push her then. I push her back from out of my face. I push her because She is hurting me with her words of fucking truth. A truth I would never tell Lexa. Because Raven lied, but I am a continuous liar. So I push her out of my face… but she pushes me back. Her push harder and I have to take a step back. “I’m not your fucking door mat, and I have a right to try to be happy. If that means with a guy or a girl, it’s none. Of. Your. Fucking. Business.”

She turns to leave then, but she can’t because John comes in the front door. I don’t know how he get’s there, though that doesn’t matter. What matters is my older brother is covered in blood, and his hands are shaking as she twitches away from Raven’s arms. Dropping to the floor and sobbing.

We forgot.

In our anger, we forgot about John and Lexa, but mostly John. Our brother, who is lost in a terror of the past covered in scratches over his face and his arms. His white dirt streaked shirt is soaking up blood around the crewed neck line, and smearing in the dirty over his chest where his arms are crossed as he holds himself.

He is trying to get to the bathroom, but we block him. We block him, and surround him. Pressing into him with our arms.

“You’re safe, John,” I whisper.

Raven follows me, “No, one is here to hurt you.”

We keep saying our words. The words that we know and have practiced over the years. I realize that Lexa must be so confused, and I feel bad that I can’t explain things to her. I can’t explain the worlds that Raven and John and I had come from. Well really Raven and John, because the terror of my life was losing my dad and having a second parental figure that just wanted to be there.

I am saying my words, but my mind is miles away. Miles within my inner universe trying to figure out how to tell Lexa about what happened when Jacky was born, explain the skeletons that Raven let out today. I am scared to even look over at her, realizing that the scene we just made…made it seem like I am still in love with Ray.

_Fucking… God damn it, you stupid bitch!_

I feel John’s arm around me, and the other I know will have found Raven. He whispers hoarsely, “Please stop yelling.”

I nod, and Raven looks over his shoulder at me. She looks at me, and shakes her head, “I should have said those things.”

I stare at her, and confess, “I shouldn’t have asked you to leave.”

John’s hold tightens, and he whispers, “I told her to play the straight card. If you blame someone, then blame me. She loved you so much, but we all know now you were meant for the broken hearted woman that tucked herself into your bedroom when you started screaming at each other.”

Twisting around I find that Lexa is indeed no where in sight. My blood has slowed, and using my teacher super hero – insanely good hearing—I can hear her muffled tears coming down the hall. I close my eyes, and know. Know that I fucked up, and I hurt her.

John is pushing me then. Raven nods, and tells me, “I will help road kill get cleaned up. We need to leave in like forty-five minutes.” She points to the dong on the floor, and adds, “Take the dick, because you are going to have to give her some serious head to get out of this one, Princess.”

I move from them, leaving the dick on the floor. The hall ways isn’t long enough for this walk of shame. If this was Lexa, she would be running to me right now. I am such a coward, and I walk slowly to avoid her. Avoid having to look into her hurt eyes and know that this time I am the sole cause of her pain.

Explain why I caused her pain, and hope that I can convince her that I am not looking to hook up with Raven. That I was only angry with her for lying to me, not matter what it looked like.

_She can understand that._

_I mean she could… I hope._

I look back but Raven and John are gone from the living room. Turning to face the door I press my face into the tiny crack, and whisper, “Lexi?”

She doesn’t answer me though. I push open the door, and I find her sitting on the bed, neck to a large open duffle bag. Her stuff thrown in haphazardly, as she sat next to it staring down at a photo. I recognize the frame immediately. It's the photo of her taking me out at the game. The joke of how she knocked me off my feet.

I repeat softly, “Lexi?”

Looking up, I could see the tears streaming. Her soft cheeks flushed and glistening wet from under red puffy eyes. I was right to be scared of this moment. The look in her eyes is one I never want to see again.

“I… I packed,” she states, as if I couldn’t see her questionable pack job. Looking around, I can see her empty open drawers from the dresser, and hangers on the floor.

I nod and take a step forward. I am not sure what to say, so I let out the first thing that comes to mind, “I can see that.”

Shaking her head, Lexa casts a hand out to the bag. I can see her palm shaking. I bite my lip, as she tells me, “I spent all morning looking for us for a house.”

I can’t move as I just listen. It’s her time to talk, but it’s so hard to listen to her. Listen to her tell me about my list, and the homes she found in some place that sounds magical called Agritopia. How they had the wrap porches, and “I just wanted to find you your dream home, because I can afford it.”

“Lex,”I try, but she shakes her head again.

She holds up the photo, and says, “I knocked you off your feet, and even then she was there. She is your like true love.”

I am shaking my head, but she is still choking out her words. “I heard you that night… You were out of it, but you said… I heard you tell her… said you fell for me because I looked like her.”

Moving from where I stand, I take the few steps and push the frame from both her hands. Positioning myself between her open knees, and cupping her chin. I wipe at her tears, wishing that we could get through just one week without tears.

“I love you, Lexa. I am not mad that Raven and I are not together,” I tell her. Her eyes so warm and green, glinting with the tiniest shiver of hope. I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead.

“You’re it. You’re the one I want. I mean seriously, I’ve spent 7 years basically stalking you like a creeper,” this drew a choked laugh from her.

Her eyes are shining some, so I take a chance. I say, “Agritopia sounds… like a beautiful place.”

Lexa moves suddenly, her hand in her bag tossing stuff aside. She pulls out her iPad, and she is shuffling through some pages, before she turns the screen to me. The house is gorgeous to say the least. It’s exactly what I asked for. I reach forward and brush my finger against the screen.

Carefully, she says, “It’s five bedrooms, and has a finished basement. There is a basketball court in the back yard, and the pool has a fence around it.”

I flip through a few other photos, and the house is huge. It’s so big I could get lost in the space. But when I look at it I could see us there. The photo of the master bathroom make me laugh, but even louder as Lexa points to the shower.

“I could wash my hair.” Her voice is almost childish. When I look up, I see her smiling. A genuine smile filled with white teeth from that nasty homemade toothpaste and crinkly corner eyes.

She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I don’t even know how I have lived so long without her. All those times I could have spoken with her. All those years we could have maybe had.

I nod then to her. I nod and point, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

I nod, and match her smile as she toss the iPad on the bed and pulls me into her. Wrapping me in her arms so warmly. The woman that didn’t like to be touched is holding me like I just made her dreams come true, and I want to feel like this always. Always and forever.

Yeah, this is good. This is right. The way she inhales my scent as though I am the oxygen she needs to breath. I hold on tightly, well as tightly as possible until the siblings burst through the door and tackled us to the bed. Squeezing the air out of me, as John says, “Ohana means family.”

And Raven adds, “Means no one-“

Lexa calls out, “I KNOW THIS ONE!”

And together we say, “No one is left behind.”


	28. The Kane Kru

**~Lexa~**

_John’s bloody shirt is touching me. Why is John covered in blood? What the hell is going on? Why is he touching me with his bloody shirt?_

I try to get them up, but they are all holding on so tight. I feel my chest constricting, and I am struggling to breath. I need him to get off me. I start to hyperventilate, and Clarke is pushing us.

Her hands on my face, when everyone is backing up looking confused. I look down and my shirt has his blood on it. My arm has his blood smeared on me. I pull my shirt off, not caring that the other two are in the room. I use the shirt to try and wipe away the blood, saying, “Get it off.”

Clarke is trying to help me, but I push her hands away, “I need it off. Off. Now.”

“Lex, let me help you,” she says, and I can feel her fingers running circles on my back. It should be comforting but I need to clean it off. I need to get it off of me.

Clarke isn’t talking to me anymore, she’s talking to Raven, “Turn the shower on… Raven, now please shower.”

I hear foot steps, and I feel Clarke pulling me. She is pulling me, and I am trying to wipe it away. Even though I cant see it, I know it is still there.

Clarke tugs at my clothes, stripping off my jeans and panties in one swipe. I look up just in time to see Raven taking one full look at me up and down. Apparently she hadn’t made it out of the bathroom and was stuck on the toilet with Clarke and I blocking the door. I blush momentarily, I mean I have been showering with girls for a while but this was different. This was Raven and I was naked.

Well I was naked as soon as Clarke popped the clasp of my bra and tugs it off of me. She doesn’t even give it a second thought as she is pushing me in the shower. The hot water hitting me makes me feel better, but not good enough. Clarke is there though. Wash cloth in hand and she is wiping the body wash over my skin, scrubbing away the remnants that I couldn’t see but knew was there.

“I got you,” she says. She doesn’t look at me, just continues to scrub over my arms and my stomach where my shirt touched me. I hear the door click shut, as she washes under my breasts, then over my breasts. She is careful not to rub to hard, but she cleans me. Protecting me from not only John’s fluids but from myself rubbing my skin raw.

I whisper, “Thank you.”

She just nods, and moves down my body. Washing away all evidence of the day on my skin. I start to feel less contaminated and more… well something else is definitely brewing.

Her hand taps me lightly, and I lift my leg. She scrubs at my first foot before rinsing it and moving to the next. When she is done she pulls the hand shower nozzle off. The one that I installed so I could wash my hair in this midget sized tub.

The water is rushing over my body. Running over me in a gentle stream as she strokes my skin. I don’t know if she realizes she is lighting my fire. That is until I feel her fingers brush against my small trail of hair. The softest touch, as the water runs down my body and circles the drain.

“Better?” she asks, and I nod. Her finger grazing just a little deeper, brushing over the tip of my clit. My body presses up to her touch and I finally get to see her eyes. Her lips curled in a soft smile. “I’m sorry he bled on you. I am still not even sure how he managed to get all messed up.”

I don’t care though. I reach out and pull her up as I lean down. Her still clothed body presses against me when our lips meet. Our kiss deep and urgent, my tongue sliding between her lips and stroking hers, while her fingers stroke my clit. Dancing over and around it, pulling a moan from me.

Her hand dips down, and she slides a finger inside of me as her thumb rubs against my clit. We don’t have much time, and she clearly has no intention of stopping. Her thursts increasing within me.

I hold on to her as I lean my back against the cold wall. I want kiss her, and breath her in. Her mouth still hinting of the minty toothpaste from this morning. It tells me she hasn’t eaten and I catalogue that into the back of my mind to recitify when we…

I can’t even finish my thought, because her lips are pulled back and she has pulled out of me. I baulk at her, and stammer, “But… Princessa… please?”

She smiled and twirls her slick finger around. It's a single but I can’t move because she then slides the digit in her mouth and smiles. I open my mouth but shut it again. I want to kiss her even more now. Kiss me and her. But her fingers are gripping my hair and she is saying, “I told you to turn around.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I follow her grip and turn. My nipples hit the cold tiles and it sends a jolt down to my core. As I start to adjust, I feel the sharp snap on my rear. It stings but I feel the slick gathering in my folds.

“Please, Clarke,” I beg, and I feel her breath on my back as her hand comes around. The other still locked in my hair but scratching my scalp lightly. Her fingers press my face to the tiles as her other fingers dipped deep in my cunt. She doesn’t waste any time building up. No, her fingers pick up a punishing pace as she holds my head to the tile.

My ass presses back and against Clarke. Trying to keep my moans to a minimum, but it gets harder as I feel her teeth sink into my shoulder. Its hard and she may have drawn blood, and it for sure causes me to cry out as my walls clamp down around her thrusting fingers. My body contracting, while the water splashes cold drops around my ankles from the discarded shower nozzle.

Clarke’s voice is soft, as she praises me. “Good girl. You are so beautiful when you cum for me.”

Her fingers having slowed, and her hand is now petting my damp hair. I am still trying to catch my breath when she pulls out and wraps her arms around me. Her face pressed to my back. Her finger strum against my stomach lightly as she says, “You’re so beautiful, Lexa Trikru.”

I feel completely safe in her arms, and I just want to stay there. She is pulling away then. The pipes squeak as the water turns off, and I feel the cotton towel on my back. Her hands are patting it against me as she dries away the water.

“We need to put some Neosporin on your shoulder,” she says. I take the towel that is now draped over my showers and start drying my front as she moves around behind me.

I feel her steady hands, and then the cold ointment on my shoulder. I laugh a little, and as, “Did you claim me?”

She doesn’t answer, and when I turn I see Clarke’s cheeks blushing. She says, “I got a little carried away. I’m sorry.”

I reach out and grasp her wrist. Turning her and pulling her back to my front. Nuzzling down into her neck, I bite lightly on her pulse point. I suck on the spot, but I don’t bite down enough to draw blood. When I pull back I whisper just past her ear, “I am supposed to be the Alpha. I’m supposed to the one to mark you.”

She tilts her head then, and gives me access to her neck. I smile as I lock my lips around her throat. I can’t bite her though. Not there.

I know she has her appearance before the school board tomorrow, and I just press down lightly, before I pull away.

Turning her, I smile as I pull her shirt up and off. It’s wet anyways. Leaning down, I brush my fingers over her nipples and kiss the top of her breast. I squeeze lightly, and I think that maybe I feel something but I lock my lips around the skin and start applying pressure with my teeth.

The door handle shakes, and I hear Raven on the outside of the door. I apply more pressure as Raven is yelling, “I got to piss, and we need to go, so stop having sex and get your asses out here.”

I bite down a little harder and Clarke squirms some. As I look up, her head is thrown back and she is breathing out harshly. I bite deeper, and her hands come up to my head, holding me still. Encouraging me to claim her.

“Lexa,” she says in a deep gravely tone that she only uses when she cums. I feel like I am ready for round two, and for a split second I consider that if I break her skin I will have her blood in my mouth. And in that second I realize that because it’s Clarke I can handle that.

I apply the rest of the pressure and hear her gasp as my teeth break the skin. It’s not deep, but its still my mark. I lick the wound lightly, and then stand up. She smiles at me as reaches up and wipes at my lips.

“Brush your teeth,” she tells me, and looks down at my handiwork.

“Mine,” I say.

“Yours,” she echoes.

~~~~~

Raven’s truck is actually a really nice ride. A Raptor with a full lift kit in cherry red. The type of car that Anya would love. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Anya would take interest in Raven. The girl was everything I’m not. She’s sleek and confident. Abrasive and a sheer challenge for my ex.

“How the fuck did you end up covered in blood?” Raven asks over the bass.

He shifts in the front seat. Clarke and I had been banished to the back because apparently we are gross. I want to show Raven how gross I can be, but Clarke is cutely snuggled into my side, using the center seat belt to lock herself in.

“Rexa,” he says, and my ears perk. _Rexa hurt him?_ He grips the oh-shit handle as Raven takes a turn far to fast for anyone but her comfort. I swear the girl thinks that common sense aerodynamics and gravitational forces do not apply for her.

He talks a little louder so we can hear him, “I was trying to et some air because you know I can’t handle the yelling and all that.” He shakes his head as he continues, pressing his other hand to his eyes, “I went to step out and Rexa was fleeing your crazy as well, and I tripped over her. I tried to catch myself on the door but I missed and I landed sliding like half way on the walk way and my face on those fucking shitty bricks that Princess had to sure to line the dirt beds that she never even bothered to fucking plant flowers in.”

He turns back and looks at my girl. “You’re a dumbass, just for the record.”

She reaches up and flips him off with the cutest little finger I have ever seen, but the words coming out of her mouth reminds me that my girl is a dirty dirty girl. “I can shove this up your ass so you can call for O’s big brother.”

He turns back around sharply, grumbling something that gets lost in the music. I look down at Clarke and see just the crown of her head and adorable little nose. I take her finger and raise it to my lips before slipping it in my mouth. “Mine,” I whisper.

Raven is yelling then, her eyes angry in the rearview mirror, “ABSOLUTELY NOT! Not in my car!”

I take her finger deeper in my mouth and hum, “MMMMMMMMmmmmmmm.”

Raven is pissed, but that’s okay. She fucked my girl. She fucked my ex. And she yelled at my omega today. She deserves to be pissed.

John is laughing. Its good to see him laugh even though he looks beat the fuck up. He is shaking his head, and said, “You were worried she would never get some and now you’re pissed she is. You’re ridiculous.”

_Yeah, John-John, get her!_

John turns around then. His eyes are soft, and he says, “I… uh… I use to get tossed around in the middle of my parent’s fights. They would be screaming and when I tried to protect my mom… well my dad didn’t like it.” He pauses for a minute, and I am not sure why he is telling me this, but I am not going to stop him.

“He would hit me a lot, and so the blood kind of set me off… and the yelling didn’t help much either.”

He is shaking his head, and he looks at Raven. She sighs, and shakes her head too.

Her voice is quieter and much of her story is lost in the music. I think she liked it that way, but still she was sharing, and it was nice. “I was 9 when I got pulled. My mom was a prostitute… more kids than… She left me in a hotel room for a week… Found me… hungry… bounced from place to place… tweaking in the street… Marcus offered a chance to get clean…rest is history.”

I swallow the pieces of the story that I heard. Raven’s attitude and chip made sense. Her fighting attitude and ready to take everything on so head on. Her own sense of loss over Jacky. Slowly Raven was starting to make more sense.

I look at Clarke who is staring forward. I already knew her story, and I knew she wasn’t one to share more unless she had to. The onion layers were deep with Clarke and her need to be seen as good and in control was part of how she kept her sanity. Maybe one day I will understand more of everything, but right now I would love her for everything she is.

Looking ahead, I see Raven’s eyes on me. They are waiting. Waiting for me to tell my story. It isn’t tragic like theirs are though. I mean they will probably just going to laugh at me.

_~ 11 years, 2 months and 25 days ago~_

_Dad was coming home tonight. He usually didn’t come home on weeknights, but he would be coming to my game. My first game as a freshmen member of varsity. I was even going to start._

_He made it just in time to hit the bleachers at tip off. Mom was with him, which means she was having a good day. That was good because she had been swinging between high and low all week while he was gone. The last three days had been some of the worse. Her bi-polarity dropping her into a mixture of fits of rage where she was throwing the dishes on the floor claiming they weren’t scrubbed properly, and sobbing against the bathtub claiming the walls were caving in on her._

_But she was here, and she was wearing my team shirt. I played hard that night. The other team was bigger and higher ranked but we still took the “W.”_

_I was showered and lugging my bag out, when I saw my mom waving. “Alexandria!” she called through the crowd like I didn’t see them. It was a little embarrassing, I mean I was a freshmen. I smile though._

_These days with my mom are few and far in between._

_When I looked at my dad though, his face was stern and I can tell he is not impressed. I don’t drop my head. It would be a sign of weakness. When I got close enough, he told me, “I spoke with your coach about your lack of playing time.”_

_I can’t believe this. I played almost three quarters. I mean I made most of the points on the board. How does he expect me to do that without a few minutes of break._

_“Father,” I start but he holds up his hand silencing me._

_Shaking his head in disappointment, he turns to move to the door. The gym mostly empty by now. He doesn’t leave though. He moves to the rack of balls that haven’t been put away yet. Taking one from the rack he tosses it to me. Pointing to the corner her tells me to hit the corner of the three line._

_I follow instructions, and drop my bag where I stood with my mom._

_I waited for further instructions, noticing that several of the older kids were still standing by watching us. There was no point though. I was 13 and not able to just leave. Plus if I said no, the wrath of my father would be worse. A man who believed firmly in still picking a switch from the willow tree out back to make sure I understood his point._

_“Take the shot,” he said. Setting up, I took it and it went in. A few of my teammates cheered, but the ball was tossed back to me, and he said, “Again.”_

_This one fell too. The ball was returned, along with the word, “Again.”_

_The third time was not my charm, and the ball hit the rim bouncing away. He pointed to the base line, and said, “One suicide.”_

_I looked over to the older kids that were whispering, and I wanted to protest. This was humiliating. But I didn’t. I just started running. Hitting the free throw line and then back. Then I ran to the half court line and back. Turning again, I made my way to the far free throw line and returned only to turn and go back to the other side of the court and return._

_I hit the spot I started from, hand on my knees as I try to catch my breath. I almost not react when he tosses the ball back at me. I catch it before it catches my face. “Back to the line.”_

_When I hit the line, he says, “Hit the shot, Alexandria.”_

_I shoot, but I miss._

_“Baseline,” he yells. “You missed six of these shots. Totally you lost your team 24 points tonight. It was embarrassing.”_

_I am at the baseline, and he yells, “Go.”_

_I take off again. My legs are burning, already exhausted. I understood the game then. If I missed, I ran._

_~~~~~_

“And the game continued. It continued until the older kids left as I emptied bile and Gatorade into the trashcan. It continued until the janitor told my father we would have to leave because he needed to lock the gym,” I explain. I don’t know why I told them at story.

“Every game or practice he came to ended like that. I began to dread him coming, but when he was home, Mom was usually on a high. It was balance to walk but things were easier when she was bubbly and acting motherly. It almost made up for the thousands of suicides and the number of times she came tearing into my room in the middle of the night swearing that I was trying to kill her, and searching for the sword she swore I was going to thrust into my father’s heart after I slit her throat,” as I tell them this, Clarke holds my hand and squeezes lightly.

I finish with, “I started sleeping in my closet when I was seventeen. It was the only door I was able to install a lock on from the inside, and I didn’t see the irony behind it all then… but yeah, that’s my story.”

The ride is quiet for the most part. The music covering the sound of the road, and the sound of my heart beating too fast because I told them. I had never told anyone. Not even Anya. Not even Anya when she played the same game.

When we pull up to the martial arts studio, I sit still for a moment. John turns around in his chair as Raven gets out of the truck. Clarke is still holding on to me.

He smiles, his large nose rising a little. Carefully he said, “Welcome to the Kane Krew. You’re one of us, so let’s go cheer on the youngest delinquent.”

He gets out of the car giving me some time with Clarke alone. Her head falls to my shoulder, and she whispers, “Babe, thank you.”

I nod.

“We don’t have to see them,” she offers.

I shrug, “They don’t want anything to do with me sense I married Anya. Homosexual daughter could potentially ruin their chance of getting into heaven.” I run my other palm against my jeans. “I am not to return to their home unless it is with a husband and I am giving up this life of sin.”

Clarke turns in her seat then and pulls me into her arms. Cradling my head very awkwardly to her bust. “Baby, you are perfect.”

I snort. Yes, snort in sarcasm, “Says the girl I almost raped.”

Clarke holds me tighter then, and she presses her lips to my head, “No, says the the girl that is going to marry your sexy ass some day. Says the girl that is moving to the magical land of Agritopia with you. Says the girl that is going to make all your dreams come true.”

I wrap my arms around her, but the door on my side is pulled open and the cold November air rushes in and Raven stands holding the door, “Get out of my truck before you do something that only I may do in the back seat of _my_ truck with Clarkie’s mom.”

I sigh. Raven has the ability to ruin every fucking moment. Like I swear she has radar for special moments and if Clarke and I are about to have a good moment then Raven knows to come bust in.

Clarke’s shoe wizzes past my head and I see Raven dodge just in time. She points in at her and says, “Just for that next time I record her screaming my name just so I can give it to you on Christmas.”

“I hate you,” Clarke mutters.

“Love you too, Princess,” the older girl responds. “I love you enough to become your second mommy.”

I get down pushing Raven out of the way some, but as I look just ttwo cars down, I see a familiar face. Dark eyes watching me, as two little boys are running through the parking lot in white uniforms and little orange belts.

I turn back to look at Clarke, who is staring at me with a quizzical look. I ask her, “Why is Indra here?”


	29. AUTHOR'S NOte

Please, check out the clexa smut off. You vote with a kudo for the best smut. Please don't let me lose to Vyni!!!! Love you all. Your update will be here tomorrow evening, and good things are happening if I am in the lead. :) Can't promise what a broken heart will get you!

-Luxi

 


	30. The best fans!!!

**~Lexa~**

With the fading light, I just watch Indra. Her dark eyes studying me and then Clarke by my side. How her face didn’t shift, just studied. Sometimes I wish that Indra would smile. I know she is capable of it because her kids are too happy to not have a mother who smiles.

What I don’t expect though is for Octavia to run out of the building and bounce up to the woman that is still staring at me. The green eyes are so excited to see Indra, and then I see it. Indra’s smile. It’s surprisingly warm, and I wonder if I could’ve seen this earlier if I hadn't been such a douche. I mean maybe it would have made me better.

I learn something in that moment though. Indra’s smiles are precious, and reserved for those she truly cares for, and for some reason I want to be one of those people. I want to be one of those people that Indra cares for.

“Lexa,” Indra says with a simple nod.

I nod back, not sure what else to do. Her tone tells me she still hates me. How can I blame her. I was one of her biggest clients and I went about fucking up every positive image she had of me.

Something dawns on me then though. Indra knows Octavia. Indra has known Octavia long enough to love her and smile at her.

I get it.

I get it now. Like someone flipped the switch of understanding, as my mind begins to connect all of the dots. Clarke to Octavia. Octavia to Indra. Indra to me. Me to Clarke. Indra got Octavia’s letter to me, and I pissed on Octavia’s grand gesture. I hurt Indra’s… _what is Octavia to Indra?_

Octavia is pouncing on Clarke then like a small panther. Bouncing in her dark martial arts uniform. The bulky fabric clinging awkwardly to her small form. But she is still a little taller than Clarke.

“I got it going,” Octavia tells her. “We are all coming tomorrow!”

I smile. Clarke does this to people. Makes them smile, and makes them want to fight for what they want. I know she taught me that. She taught me to see what I wanted, and to fight for it. Looking up at Indra who was waving at the older of her two boys, I realize that it’s my time to fight.

I move forward, giving Clarke and Octavia their space. Holding out my hand to Indra, I lower my eyes. “I owe you my gratitude and my apologies.”

She just looks at me. Her eyes narrowing, as she studies me. Shaking her head, she says, “No, I am not going down this road with you again. You are already hurting that girl, and I won’t clean up your mess.”

I drop my hand. It wouldn’t be that easy; it was stupid to think that Indra would even give me the time of day. I glance over my shoulder and see Octavia pulling on Clarke’s arm to take her inside.

Raven’s arm is in Octavia’s other hand, and the younger girl is practically dragging them inside as her mouth is moving so fast, and her words are falling out in a raspy tone. “I’m going to own this shit,” I hear her say. “I mean the dude I am fighting is a lot bigger but I’m faster and… and… just know that Ben is going to be looking up at me from the floor.”

I shake my head, and speak without thinking, “That kid really is something else.”

“She is,” Indra provides as we both head towards the door. Before we got inside, she stopped us, “Did you ever read her letter?”

I dropped my head. No, I hadn’t. In fact, I am almost certain that the damn thing was still sitting on the floor of my baby. I think about it carefully. It has to still be there because I haven’t had the car detailed since before I met Clarke.

“No, but I am almost certain it’s in my car,” I answer.

Indra is looking through the glass at the various sized kids moving around the mats, as parents and friends gather in various seats. Most were holding phones or high tech cameras. I need a camera like that. I need to have a camera so I can take photos of Jacky when she does stuff like this.

I wonder if Jacky wants to do martial arts, or does she want to be a princess? I don’t care, but I know I want to teach her how to shoot. I want to get her a little hoop and play one on one with her. I get lost for several minutes, but Indra’s voice pulls me back.

“She says your blonde saved her.”

I glance over at Indra and follow her eyes sight. Her eyes watching the brunette within hopping up and down, and playfully pushing at a much taller boy with shaggy blondish hair. He is trying hard not to smile, but Lincoln is standing behind Octavia shaking his head at the boy. Snorting slightly, I turn back to Indra.

Pointing at the glass, I say, “You gave me the letter. You should know what’s in it.”

She shakes her head though, and nods to the window, “We are going through all the motions to adopt that kid. Her case manager is being problematic, and she begged me not to read the letter. Said it was just for you so you would understand how important that Ms. Griffin is to her. She won’t tell me the savior story…” I don’t feel like she was done with her thought, but she stops talking.

I look back, and see Octavia waving to Indra and ushering her inside. Pride flowing from her face, as Indra’s sons hang on the older girl.

“You were hoping I would tell you,” I state, getting only silence in response.

She doesn’t continue with the conversation. I am not sure why, but I take the door and open it. Holding it for her, I wait. I wait. _What the hell, Indra? Go in the damn door._

She doesn’t move. Fine, she can’t even walk through a door that I open, I move to step in. Her hand stops me though. Her hand touching me. She has never dared to do that before, knowing my boundaries.

“She does good things for you,” she says as her hand drops from my arm. “You would have never let me do that before.”

I nod, and look at where Clarke is waving me in. Her lips mouthing something like ‘come on.’ I wave to her, and turn my head only slightly to Indra, “You’re right. She’s not like Cos, and she’s far from Anya. I’m going to marry her though.”

Indra huffed, “So you signed the papers finally?”

“You’ve seen the video?”

Indra grunted, “I see everything.” She pauses for a moment as the youngest kids are ushered onto the mat by Octavia and someone else that looks a little… well a lotta more experienced. The tiny androgynous person, is giving instructions with a large personality that reminds me of a chihuahua yelling at the big dogs and this person may be more of an Alpha than I am. As I look the person over, I think Clarke’s boobs may be bigger than that person’s entire chest and I am amazed. _How is that even possible?_

“Are you going to ruin that woman’s life?” My hand grips the door a little tighter. _How could she even ask that?_ If she sees so much, then she should see that I am changing. That I am not Lexa fucking Trikru anymore.

It’s a test. It’s a test, and I am failing as my knuckles turn white. So I lay it out for her, “I am still working on my issues. I know I need to talk with someone about everything that has happened. She makes me better though. Clarke… that’s her name… and she is my savior too.”

Indra studies my face. Dark eyes searching me for any sign of weakness. So I give it all to her. I show her how weak I am for Clarke. How weak she makes me. Because I am. I am so completely drawn to the blonde heading towards the door.

Her body is in the doorway, and she tells me, “Lex, leave Indra alone. Her kids are almost up.”

“You know Indra’s kids?” I ask, wondering if I was set up on all fronts. If this was like a project ‘fix Lexa’ that I fell into.

Clarke shakes her head though, her eyes confused and pointing to the parking lot, “We watched them walk in.” She says it like I am ridiculous for asking, because I am ridiculous for asking. I shake my head and wrap my arms around her. Of course, she would know who Indra is. Of course, she would know who her kids were if this is Octavia’s gym. I mean it's obvious Indra has been involved with Octavia for a while if she is trying to adopt her.

Kissing her hair, I tell her, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

She pulls back, and pushes her back to the door. Looking at Indra, “I’m sorry we are now blocking you.” Indra nods and walks inside. She takes a seat away from where John and Raven are at saving us a seat on the end.

“You got me a seat where I can actually fit,” I tell her. She smiles, her head bobbing a little. “Have I mentioned that I love you?” She wiggles a little more, and then starts dragging me inside.

~~~~~

I can’t lie, the little kids are the most adorable thing that I have ever seen. Their little warrior cries as they kick and punch in unison. The chihuahua instructor calling out what I think are different strikes. I turn to Clarke as she hands me a water bottle. It’s already opened and she has drained part of it. Taking it from her, I look at it for a minute.

Shaking my head, I think about how I tasted on her lips, and I know I can do this. I can drink after her. Putting the bottle to my lips, I don’t even feel the need to choke as I drink. I feel almost normal.

Clarke is cheering, as the older students make their way on the mats. Her small frame hopping up and down. Raven is hooting through her hands, and John is pumping his fist in the air, chanting, “Oc-tay-vi-ah! Oc-tay-vi-ah!” There is a taller man standing next to him, shouting along with him. I have no idea who he is, but he chants along with John.

So this is what it’s like to have people that care cheer for you. It seems more important than the thousands of people that scream for me. Yeah, the X-Factor has nothing on Kane’s kids.

Octavia’s group runs through several drills as well. They move forward and start into breaking things with their own fierce cries of battle as boards are broken. I’m impressed by the teen’s focus and power she places behind her hits. Besides basketball, I have never really seen other sporting events. I mean other than Ryder’s football games, but not watching football is kinda a crime of treason.

Before long, the matches begin. I watch as Octavia enters a circle with the larger boy she was with earlier. Their stances are almost identical, and when the tiny person moves-- I still keep seeing Clarke trying to get her tits in that tiny fucking shirt-- out of the center of the circle, and the teens start moving around each other.

The boy strikes first. Lunging towards the smaller girl, who steps aside, but not before catching a now misaligned strike to the shoulder. Staggering to the side, I see the teen’s eyes harden. I recognize that look. I saw it in the way she stared me down after I ruined Clarke’s surprise. Shaking my head, I look down.

But I miss something, because Clarke is on her feet bouncing and screaming. “That’s right, kid! Mess up that pretty boy face!”

I look up to see the boy holding his jaw, as Octavia moves sideways, preparing for her next strike. The boy angles towards her, but she lands a hard kick to his side, he moves more dramatically to the side of the circle, as Clarke kicks up her leg. “You got this!” Clarke is screaming.

Looking around I see how many people are watching her, but when I look up at her I can’t even find it in me to stop her. So I figure I will do what any good future wife would do. I stand up and call out, “Kick his butt!”

Clarke turns to me with the biggest smile. On her toes, she reaches up and pulls me down into a kiss. It isn’t PG, but it’s enough to get Raven to tug at us.“Kids are present,” she hisses at us. I don’t care, but I realize that this is about Octavia. I pull back, and Clarke smiles at me. Until the sound of a girly cry comes from the mats. Turning abruptly, we see the large boy on the ground and Octavia landing several hits to his bleeding face.

The mini person stepped in pulling Octavia from the other boy, as he whined, “I have an audition tomorrow, O.”

I snicker, because it’s no wonder that Indra wants this kid. I mean Indra loves fighters. I glance over at her. She isn’t clapping as Octavia’s hand gets raised in the air. No, that’s just not Indra’s style. Instead Indra stands tall, not moving anything more than her mouth to smile at the girl that has her shoulders back, mimicking my former publicist’s body language.

I lean into Clarke, and tell her, “Indra will make a great mom for her.”

Clarke freezes. Her hands mid clap, as she turns to me. Her brows knitted in the middle as she looks me over. She looks past me then, and I know she is looking at Indra. I don’t even need to turn. I don’t need to because I can see the realization hitting Clarke, and then knowing that she hadn’t been told yet.

She turns back to me, and asks, “How do you know?”

I stutter, “I… uh… Indra just said it outside. I’m sorry I didn’t know that you didn’t know.”

She nods, and says, “I didn’t… I mean I use to mentor her, but since I got her at Kane’s we haven’t spent much time together besides in class.”

I reach over and pull her in. Pull her close to me, and I tell her, “Don’t worry. She’s not going to leave you.”

Clarke looks up, whispering, “How did you know?”

I smile, and shake my head, “Not important. What’s important is that I know.”

Her grip around me tightens and I feel comfortable with her. With her hands on me. I don’t want to release her, but a girl maybe twelve comes up to us. She’s holding a pad of paper, and her little throat clearing makes Clarke release me.

Looking down, her eyes are kind of scared, but she twists the pen in her hand, before she says, “Uh… excuse me, but can I have your autograph?”

I smile, and take the pen from her. Her dad is standing by, his face looking down at the girl endearingly. I ask the girl, “Do you want a photo?”

The girl looks back at her dad, bouncing slightly, “Can you take it, Dad?” She is holding out a phone to him.

He hesitates, his eyes running over me. I know what he sees, at least I think I do. But then he smiles. Like an awkward creeper smile, and I realize. I realize he isn’t judging me. The girl laughs, and tugs on my arm, “He loves the Mercury, even more than me.”

I hold out my hand then. I hold it out to him, and say, “Nice to meet you.”

Taking my hand, he shakes it, telling me, “Your win was so amazing. We were up in the second tier, but you all played your butts off.” He releases my hand and gestures to the girl, “I’m glad, Abi got to see it.”

I smile at them both, and lie. Lie through my teeth, as I say, “X-factor fans are the best fans.”

Abi is about to stand next to me, but I shake my head. I want to do something different than the normal photos I would take with a fan. I mean usually I won’t let them near me. But she’s just a kid.

Kneeling down, I hold up my hands. Abi seems to catch on. She takes her fighting stance and holds up a leg like she is going to kick me. She doesn’t though. She is just extended enough for the photo, but her face is a solid smile. I try to feign fear, but I have a hard time because this kid is so happy.

I hear the phone camera click a few times. Abi drops her leg, and lunges forward. Her small arms wrapping around my neck. I figure she must be about nine or ten, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I hug her back.

She releases me, and I just feel content. Looking over, I find Clarke in the mess of people. I don’t get to go to her though, because several more kids have gathered to take a photo with me. I don’t want to be a dick, so I take the time to meet with each.

I meet a little girl who is pulling a woman who is too young to be her mother, even if she was a teen mom. The girl tells me her name is Bae, and I realize she was in the youngest group. Keily, the nanny maybe, shakes my hand as well. Then there is one of the most adorable little girls. When she said her name, I swear I heard Louie, but her mom tells me, “it’s Laurie.”

I play fight with a set of twins, Kaiden and Cami. The two are both big personalities that make me laugh. I get lost in playing with them for a minute. I can’t even remember the last time I played with a child.

The eldest two that come to me for a photo are animated, and speak with an accent that I can’t quite place. there is another girl who is a little shyer with them. The boy holds his hand out, saying, “I’m Mac, and this is Jay.” Tossing his thumb back, she adds, “And that’s Gabby. Can we take a photo?”

I shake their hands, telling them how nice, it is to meet them. When we pose they explain it has something to do with teenage mutant ninja turtles. I am clueless of what they are referring to, and when I say that, I received a rather long winded speech regarding their importance in the balance between good and evil.

Taking the last photo with a girl maybe twelve, who says her name is Row, and don’t believe what her mother calls her. They bicker for a minute, and Row ends up with a photo of me holding her head like a ball.

I enjoyed my time with the kids, but just after the last photo, Clarke is pulling me away. Her fingers laced in mine. She is tugging me over to her little sister. Octavia doesn’t pretend to like me.

She nods stiffly, and her tone of greeting is nothing compared to when she was bouncing outside of her car. I hold out my hand to her, and say, “Helluva match.”

She looks at my hand, and squints, “Is this a trick? ‘Cause last time I touched you, you spun ‘round like you were going to lay me out.”

I drop my hand, but Clarke pulls me back to her. She is still smiling, but it is a little forced, “O, please.”

Octavia’s face doesn’t shift, but she does hold out her hand. I take it, feeling the awkward tension only rise. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Trikru.”

“It’s just Lexa, please.”

~~~~~

We go to dinner before heading home. Clarke goes in, but I tell her I need to get something out of my car. She kisses me before she leaves me. I click the unlock button, and squat down feeling around the dark floor. I actually have to reach all the way down under the seat, which is not small feat when your arms are as large as mine. People think this shit is easy when you’re tall but really I have to do things at the most awkward angles.

I find it though. The small crumpled ball of paper. At first I try to smooth it out, but I give up. Hitting the passenger’s side light on, I start scanning through the lines, but I realize that I can’t scan it.

I can’t scan it as I read something that I don’t think Clarke ever planned on telling me. I read it three times, not even sure how I could tell Clarke, let alone tell Indra.

And looking up at the door, and I feel the need to hold my princess. I leave the door open as I run into the house. I run in and through the back door where I hear Clarke with Rexa. I don’t pause, as I wrap my arms around her, and I hold her. Because that’s all I can do with this is hold her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey people!!!! We love you! Please show us love. Please hit the kudos button. Also find our fic in the smut off! We want to win. Yeah, we wrote it together and left all of our signatures so we kinda cheated. Come on! You hit the kudos and leave the comment to me and Lowiie, and we spend all day while I type and the creeper edits the line I am typing. Lol! It's been an interesting day on google docs. Please show us love!  
> -Luxwiiieeee  
> Ha ha! It's like a rollar coaster cry!


	31. Chapter 31

**~Clarke~**   


_ What the fuck is going on? _

Lexa’s arms are so tight around me, and while I love her touching me, it's like she is trying to sooth pain that I am not even aware that I have. “Lex, what’s going on?”

I feel her hands tighten around me, and she says, “I just need you to know that I love you so much… and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what he did to you.”

Okay, now I am seriously confused. Her hands are in my hair holding my head to her chest. I know she is trying to protect me, but I need answers.   _ What he did to me? Who the fuck is he, and what did he do to me? _

I push her away, and look at her, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” I feel my anger rising. She is not supposed to know things about me that I don’t tell her, and clearly she think she knows something. 

I see that she is holding something in her hand. I reach for it but she holds on to it. The green eyes looking at me with such pain, and I see that whatever she read on that paper is going to hurt. 

“Cl-arke.” her voice breaks when she says my name. “When… when I came to see you… It was because of O.”

I bite my lip, and look at the paper. Just a lined sheet of notebook paper, crumpled and flattened. A piece of paper that has Lexa breaking apart. A piece of paper that holds something about me that I probably never would have told her.

My stomach twists and I feel like I may puke. Like I may empty my stomach all over the grass at Lexa’s feet. 

I hold my hand out, and tell Lexa, “Let me see it.”

She is still holding on to it though. She is holding it, and telling me, “She never thought you would see this. She never wanted you to know. I need you to know that… I… I need you… to just know that we are going to help her.”

I can’t take it anymore. I pull the note from her hand. I want to start reading it, but the way that Lexa is acting I know I need to sit down. I sit in the small patio chair. Looking at Lexa, I pull over the other chair. I tap the seat, and tell her, “Just be… here.”

Lexa sits. Her body folded forward and leaning her top weight on her knees. Her hands wringing. Reaching over, I take her hand and squeeze it. She looks up at me, and I know she is trying to keep her cool but she is breaking inside. 

I squeeze once more, and then take a deep breath as a I start to read. 

The writing is simple print in purple pen. It’s so Octavia and for a brief second I smile. I smile because she did this for me. 

_ Dear Ms. Lexa Trikru, _

_ I’m writing to you in hopes that you could help me honor my English teacher on her birthday. She is a huge fan of yours and has never missed a game. I know that you are extremely busy, and I know that the playoffs are about to start. (BTW, congratulations on making it to the playoffs.) Griffin is a very special person. _

_ You see she saved my life last year. I haven’t ever told her this, and I hope that maybe you won’t let her know. I know it would upset her, because I am not supposed to know this.  _

_ I’m a foster kid. I have been in the system since my mom went to jail for selling drugs and herself. My brother was too young to care for me, so I have been in the system for a while. I met Griffin when I was in a group home. She used to come and mentor teen girls. She is a really caring person, and I know she has her demons… but we all do, right? She always made me feel less scared though, and even helped me into a safe foster home with her own foster father.  _

_ This is the hard part, because I have never told anyone this before. I don’t even want Indra to know because I don’t want her to second guess adopting me. Please don’t tell her either. Okay, I hope you can understand how important getting adopted is to me. _

_ For the past several years, I was abused by my case manager. His name is Roan, and he told me a lot of really hurtful things to make me believe that what he did to me was all my fault. I know now that it is not my fault, but I didn’t know it. You see he always told me about his little blonde that taught him this is what girls like me want. I never really knew what that meant until I saw him with Griffin. When we all met, Griffin told me Roan use to be her case manager too. She seemed slightly uneasy around him, but she was always smiles. That is the thing about Griffin, she will smile through everything. _

_ I don’t know what the history is between Roan and Griffin. What I do know is that she was the blonde. I know it like I know that I want Indra to be my mom. _

_ I guess they were dating, but it wasn’t working out because Griffin didn’t want to sleep with him. I saw him try to force himself on her and tell her she was the same slut she had always been and that he would remind her of of how much she loved his dick. (Sorry, but he said dick and not penis.) She fought him though. She fought him even after he slammed her into a wall and slapped her in the face. Griffin got away because she managed to kick him in the ~~dick~~ penis _ **_._ ** _  She got away that night, and I did too because he was hurting.  _

_ But that’s not how she saved me. What she showed me was that I could fight back. That I didn’t have to let him touch me. I did fight back. I fought back when he tried to rape me in the bathroom and I slammed his face into the toilet. I wound up with me in front of a judge, but Griffin was there to support me. She got the whole school to help me.  _

_ I have never told anyone. ~~~~~~I am not even really sure why I am telling you.~~  I guess, I just need you to know that Griffin is a really special person, and she has been through a lot. Like so much, so can you please help me make her birthday special. It can never compare to her teaching me that I can be strong, but I know it will make her day. _

_ Thank you for your time and consideration. _

_ Octavia Blake _

My hands are shaking, and my chest hurts. It hurts as I am trying to breathe. I am trying, but it’s like my chest refuses to move. My diaphram locked in place as I suffocate. 

Leaning forward, I slide off the chair. I hit my knees, the damp grass seeping through my jeans as my weight pushing me into the ground.The force of my fall seems to jar something free and I choke for oxygen. Coughing and heaving to take in more air. Fill up with air so that I can float away.

Lexa’s arms come around me. They’re wrapped tightly, and...and I cling to her. Cling to her, so she won’t let me fly away. I don’t want to float away. I can’t just runaway again.

“He raped her…” I cry. “He raped her... right in front of me... He raped her when he was trying to get back together with me.” The tears are hot against the cool November night air. My face is so hot, and my legs are gone. Like I lost them in the bomb that was Roan.

“I mean… we were never together together,” I try to explain. “I seduced him… when… I was a slut and I seduced him a lot... It’s not like he could help it… but he hurt O.”

My nails are digging into my arms. I want to bleed. I want to let lose all of the pain that I caused her. I tear at my arms, but Lexa is holding my hands now. Holding me from hurting myself.

“Clarke,” she’s crying. “This is not your fault.”

I can’t really see her through my tears, but I glare at her anyways. I glare because she doesn’t know. “He hurt her because of me,” I yell. My hands pushing her away. I don’t deserve for her to touch me. Not after everything I have done. “He hurt her, and I... I taught him he could!”

My voice is screeching as I scream. As I scream and try to get her hands off of me. I can’t let her touch me like I’m worth it. I deserve this pain. I deserve a lifetime of pain. 

“I…” I don’t even know what to say. 

Lexa is holding me though. Her huge arms holding me so I can’t move. She’s whispering, as I keep screaming. “You were a child, Clarke.”

I hear her. I hear her words, but I know. I know what I did. I know that he was there for me. He was comforting me, he was comforting me when he wasn’t supposed to be touching me. I was so upset about Raven though. 

_ ~ Two Months After Raven~ _

_ We were at the house for our monthly meeting. Kane had taken out John and Raven because Roan was going to tell me that Abby had begun the process to sever all of her parental ties to me. It was just another hit. Another blow to my already fragile sense of worth.  _

_ It was two months since Raven played the straight card. Two months of knowing that she didn’t want me, and now it was official. Official that Abby didn’t want me either. I was crying at the table. Silent tears running down my face, because I knew there was nothing left. I was worthless enough that even my own mother didn’t want me. Because she was my mom. It didn't matter that she didn’t give birth to me, she had always been my mom.  _

_ He reached across to me, and placed his hand on mine. His dark eyes looking me over silently. I looked up, and I knew I was a mess. My eye liner was surely running down my face, and I knew he didn't care.  _

_ But he stood up and pulled me out of my chair. His grip was a little rough, but I didn’t have time to think about it. I didn’t have time because he was suddenly hugging me. Large arms wrapped around my neck. His cologne choking me, an old man smell. But he was holding me. He wanted to be near me. I could tell he wanted me. I could feel it, so I did the only thing I could think of to make him not leave me. I reached down and coaxed him along. It didn’t take much, and it took even less before he had me bent over the table with my skirt flipped up and sinking inside of me.  _

_ It wasn’t what I wanted, but I found a new purpose. I could be the person that helped others. He was my first dick. It hurt some, and it made me miss Raven that much more. With Raven it had never hurt. But I felt alive. I felt alive because he wanted to touch me.  _

_ That was how it all started. How I learned that my place was under someone else. I started to crave being touched by anyone, just so I could feel worth something. Just so I could feel like a person and not an empty shell. Roan was there often to make me feel full again. Keeping me grounded, and helping me know that I am not alone.  _

_ ~~~~~ _

Lexa is still holding me. Listening to me, and I tell her. I tell her how I became what I am. How I taught Roan to hurt little girls. How I fucked him repeatedly just so I would feel complete for a moment. 

Her voices is still soft though. Her voice is soft, and she is saying, “You may have started it, but Clarke, he was an adult.” I feel her chest tighten. “He was an adult and you were a child. He hurt you, and he knew.”

I am shaking my head. I don’t want to believe it. How can that be true? I asked for it. I was a slut. I was the girl that got pregnant and couldn’t even tell her who her father was. That was my fault, my fault because of what I was.

Lexa’s voice was still steady, and her arms not budging no matter how I squirmed. How badly I wanted out so I could hide away. “What happened… when Octavia saw you two?”

_ ~One year Seven months, eighteen days ago~ _

_ I had been visiting Octavia for months before I saw Roan again. I was about to graduate with my degree, and I was well on my way to getting Jacky back. I wanted to help someone though, and the Big Sister paired me up with Octavia. _

_ She was a good kid. Lost after being locked in the basement while her mom ran men in and out of her house to make enough to keep her kids fed. It broke my heart hearing her story, and I just wanted to be a better mom. I wanted to be the type of mom like Abby, that was successful and responsible.  _

_ Seeing Roan again was… overwhelming. He was a part of my past. One of could bes, and it was just too much. He smiled the same way he had whenever he saw me. When Octavia introduced him as her case worker, I was happy for her. I mean it was a little weird because I didn’t want her to know about what I used to be like, but I knew he cared about his charges.  _

_ He asked me for coffee, and we started to catch back up. I told him about Jacky and all the things I was doing to get my life in order. He told me he was proud of me, and cracked a few jokes about how it wasn’t a surprise I had a kid with the way I was living my life.  _

_ It was nice to kinda joke about who I had been. I didn’t realize… well a lot. But I didn’t realize that he was trying to get me back into being who I was. I just thought he wanted to be around the people I had grown into.  _

_ He asked me out several times, but I kept turning him down. I kept trying to explain to him that I was trying to change my life, and I wanted… I wanted to be ready. But he got tired of waiting on me.  _

_ That was the argument in the meeting room of the group home. There were voices outside of the room, but it was still private. He had told me he wanted to talk with me about Octavia. Meetings like these were not unusual especially since I convinced Marcus to take the actions to get Octavia placed with him as a form of kinship care, and we were all planning for how to deal with Octavia’s adjustments. _

_ Once the door was closed though, he was in my space. He tried to kiss me, and became frustrated when I turned away from him.  _

_ I told him again, “Ro, I’m just not ready yet. I promise I will, I just need to get Jacky back first.” _

_ Roan had had enough of me teasing him though. He pulled me to him so I could feel how much he wanted me, “Princess, you feel what you do to me.” _

_ I tried to push off him but he was stronger, and he backed me to the wall. His hands worked at his pants as he held me to the wall. His knee pinning me, made it hard to move, and I begged him, “Roan… get off of me!” _

_ He didn’t care though, his hand covering my mouth. He told me to, “Shut the fuck up. I know what you need.” _

_ I tried to push him, and I pulled at his hand. He was just so much bigger than me. All I managed to do was bite him. But it was hard, and I could taste his blood when he cried out. His hand came off my mouth, but I didn’t have a chance to move, because he hit me. It was hard and I felt like my head was spinning. I wasn’t bleeding, just my face burning.  _

_ I didn’t know how but I was face first down on the meeting table. In the same position that he first took me in all those years ago. Face down and he was pulling my panties down. I knew what was going to come, but I had worked so hard not to be this person again. I worked so hard to keep myself from getting here. I didn’t need him to feel complete. I needed Jacky. So I hit backward, and then kicked up my leg. I hit him. I hit him right in his fucking dick, and he was on the ground.  _

_ ~~~~~ _

“I didn’t wait,” I explain. “I didn’t want for him to get up. I got out of the room. I never saw Octavia again when he was around, which was easier since two weeks later she was in front of a judge.”

Lexa is shaking, but her hands are still holding onto me protectively. Her breathing erratic and her eyes are so hard. the last time I saw her look like this was when she was glaring at Echo, prepared to murder her. 

“Octavia was in front of the judge for attacking Roan,” I tell her.

She nods, “I read that.”

I feel my chest tighten. I don’t even know how to do this. I don't’ know how to deal with Lexa knowing this about me. “I…”

“It’s not your fault,” she tells me.

I shake my head though. It was my fault. It was my fault and I didn’t protect Octavia from him. I should have known he was hurting her. I should’ve had a better relationship with her so she would have told me. 

So many things I should have done, but her hands are holding on to me, and she is staring into me. Staring into me, and saying, “You were raped, Clarke. You were raped by this man when you were a child. He tried to do it again when you were adult. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault.”

I look at her lips while she speaks, but I don’t want to hear it. I don't’ want to believe that I let him rape me for months. I don’t want to believe that Jacky’s probable father raped me. Because that is too much. It's too much. 

IT’S TOO MUCH!

I can’t. I can’t. So I yell. No, I screamed, “YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” I scream and I push her off of me. Standing up, ready for a fight, “You don’t know anything about what happened. You don’t know... “

She is standing though, and her arms out. Her arms out ready to catch me when I fall. Which I know is a possibility. Lexa pleads, “I understand you don’t want it to be true. But why Clarke? Why can’t you see he raped you?”

I choke, and stare at her in the eyes. Stare at her as I tell her the truth. Tell her my greatest fear in this moment. The secret that is crushing me into wanting to call her a liar. “Roan could be Jacky’s father.”


	32. Lies... Lies... More Lies...

**~Lexa~**

I didn’t have anything to say last night. I couldn’t find a single word to help ease her pain or fear. All I could do was hold her and think. Hold her and think about the ways to tear that man apart. Hold her and consider how I can protect her and Octavia, and everyone else that feels victimized. And that’s the same way I woke. Clarke in my arms; her eyeliner smeared across my bare chest.

I _mean,_ I _could, couldn’t_   _I_? I could start something. I have enough followers, and maybe it’s time to start actually doing something visible that matters, unlike being drunk in public and fucking everything with tits and a pussy. 

That would take Indra though. Indra is good at stuff like this… but she wants nothing to do with me still.  

Maybe though… 

It means telling her the kid’s secret… 

Is that the right thing to do?

_And what about Clarke?_ She said no publicity… and it could hurt Jacky. Maybe not now but eventually she would find out. Eventually if Roan is her dad, then she would find out that her father raped her mother. Isn’t it hard enough growing up knowing that your mom couldn’t take care of you when you were little? Wouldn’t it just be even worse for her then. 

I don’t want to hurt Jacky.

I don’t want to hurt Clarke. 

I don’t want to hurt Octavia.

But, I am tired of women getting hurt. I am tired of it being more likely for a woman to be raped than not be. I am tired of it being necessary to tell young girls to always move in a pack. Yeah, I’m tired… but I can do something. 

Clarke groans, and her hand comes up to wipe the stream of drool that has made its way from her mouth to my right breast. Her eyes flutter open, and I watch as she greets the morning begrudgingly. 

“Morning, Princessa,” I say to her. She only grunts in response, and rubs her face on my chest. I know she hates mornings, but I have so much now that I want to talk with her about. 

I want to tell her about wanting to start speaking out. I want to explain to her this newfound passion in me to make a difference. I want to say to her that all of this is possible because she has made me a better person.

I think that her hearing that may lift her spirits for today. Remind her of how amazing she is before she goes before the school board. Yeah, I want to share with her, but I can’t.

I can’t tell her because she is off the bed before I can pull her back in. She is in the bathroom with the shower running before I have even a fucking chance to articulate how important she is to me. 

She walks away like last night never happened. Like we didn’t fall into each other, and I didn’t hold her as she trembled. No, she got up like she does every morning. She got up and left me in bed, like there wasn’t a chance that I finally found my words. 

Rexa is off the bed too, and hear her scuttle to the back door. Her heavy paw falling against the shitty wood. 

Like what I had to say didn’t matter. 

And that’s when I feel it in my gut. The twist of frustration. The twist that makes me feel sick, and if I was a cartoon, I am pretty sure my face would be turning green. The feelings I don’t want to feel, creeping up through my feet like vines. Crawling under my skin so I can’t just brush them away. Crawling up my legs and through my abdomen where they find purchase within, and tighten.

I feel the bile rise, and I know that there’s a good chance I may be sick. 

There’s a good chance I may be sick, because she is acting like this is just another day. And Octavia’s words are ricocheting through my mind, as the kid tells me,  _ That is the thing about Griffin, she will smile through everything. _

And the twisting starts to turn less from frustration and more to anger. The heat rising in my face, and the heavy thrum in my chest. My war drum beating through me.

Because, I mean…

Well… it’s like…

Like everytime I turn around Clarke is exposing some part of her story that is threatening to crush her world in. I mean I get that she is scared, but fuck so am I. I’m terrified of everything that is happening. And I never get to feel it. 

I never really get to deal with it. 

I can’t, because every time I want to be weak she drops another fucking bomb on me. She doesn’t really ever tell me the whole truth. No, I only ever get this sugar coated version of Clarke with her perky fucking smile, as she dances around the bigger issues until something forces her to be honest with me. Until someone forces her to be honest with me.

And I try to find it. I try to find just one instance where she was open with me and it wasn’t because of Raven, or Abby, or fucking Octavia letting me in. 

And I can’t. 

I can’t find one.

Find one truthful moment.

Truthful moment with me. 

With me and her. 

And her past. 

I try to push up from the bed, because I feel my chest constricting . I feel the vines closing around my lungs. Suffocating  me in place that I hold her so she can feel safe. 

But am I safe?

The pipes scream and the curtain is pulled. The walls are so thin, I can hear Clarke singing to herself. The song telling me to love her like I mean it.  _ And I do, Clarke. I love you so much,  _ I tell her silently. So silently, because I can’t get any words out as my lungs are fighting for air. 

The door opening pulls me from my alternate reality. The vines evaporate, but I am still panting. Still trying to find the oxygen that usually surrounds me so effectively ensuring my physical survival. The itching under my skin is nothing but tingles reminding me that maybe this was real. Maybe, I am losing it. 

Clarke’s hair was wet and hanging limply down her back. Her eyes normal, not hurt or happy. Just blue and normal. Like today wouldn’t decide if she still had a job. Like she didn’t finally accept she had been raped last night. Like everything was just so fucking… normal. 

“Waffles for breakfast?” she asks, and I feel my throat constrict, because today was just like any other day. Clarke wanted to eat shitty frozen waffles, and avoid reality. 

I sit up, and feel the tautness in my back. I want a new bed, I justify even though I know that’s not what is causing me to feel stiff and sour. Holding out my arms, I enclose my fingers and stretch. Bringing them back up, before releasing and rolling my shoulders. I feel the tension ease a little.

When I stand, she is already pulling on her jeans, and then within a minute a baseball t-shirt. She turns and I read “May the odds be ever in your favor.” I don’t know what it’s from, but it seems fitting for everyone today. Rexa is dancing around her feet, and I know the dog needs out. 

She smiles when she looks at me. I want to smile back but I can’t. I can’t so I shake my head, and grab my shorts off the floor. Pulling them on, I look around for the tank top I went to bed in and at some point took off. 

“Lex?”

I look back, and she is biting her lip. Closing my eyes, I tell her, “I can’t just pretend like everything is fine, Clarke. And no I don’t want nasty frozen waffles.” I can’t even bite back the edge in my voice. 

She takes a step towards me but I hold up my hand requesting space. I can’t have her trying to sooth this over. My head is shaking again, and I look to the nightstand for a hair tie. I reach out and grab it. Twisting my hair into a messy knot.

“I just…” I try but it doesn’t come out. 

When I look back, she is still standing in place, her head hung. I don’t even think she is listening to me, which is making me angry again. I mean I listen to every word she says, and sometimes I don’t even think she hears a word coming out of my mouth. Not when she is like this, and her mind is everywhere else but in this moment with me. For all I know she is making a fucking grocery list for when Jacky comes over tomorrow. 

I sigh, and take a step forward. I want space, but I need to see her eyes so I know she is at least pretending to hear me. Cupping her chin, I raise her face to see her eyes. They are glassed over, and I am right, she is not here right now.

I say, “I need you here with me.”

She blinks, and I see her focus again. Still silent, but at least she is here with me. “We need to talk about last night. We need to talk about everything that you keep hiding from me.”

I see the red glinting off her teeth, and I know she has bit herself, and I feel my anger faltering. I rub my thumb on her cheek, “I know it's hard, but Princessa, I want to be here for you… I want to be your everything. Your ultimate support. I can’t do that though when you are… when you keep dropping like...these bombs on me.”

Clarke’s eyes harden, and I feel like I am about to take a knife to the throat. I prepare for her wrath that I can see building. Her venom is harsh though, when she spits at me, “You don’t understand anything, so just let me deal with things the way I want to.”

I withdraw my hand. Stepping back, I feel her shoulder brush past me as she moves out of the room. Walking away from me again. Always walking away and never dealing with anything. 

“You can’t always shut me out!” I call after her. Turning I follow her, and find her frozen in the doorway to the kitchen. Her head tilted just enough to glare at me. I hold my hands in the air. “I’m here… I-”

“You’re here because you fucked too many bitches to keep your wife.”

_ Fuck!  _ My arms drop. 

I don’t even know what to say. Rexa doesn’t know what to do either so she lays down behind the coffee table and covers her face with her paws. 

But really I do. I do but it’s going to hurt. It’s hurting just rolling inside of me. Angry waves crashing against my skin. Breaking at what little self-control I have left. 

Before I can process it all, I straighten and spit back at her, “You’re one to talk about fucking bitches. At least mine didn’t get me pregnant at sixteen.”

I don’t even mean it. I’m just so angry. I mean I have changed. I have changed and become the person she wants. I want to do something that means something and… and… and she lied to me. She keeps lying to me. 

Her face is hot and red, and she is ready for a fight her steps pulling her towards me. Each step closer to what I am certain is about to end in my being slapped across the face. 

But she stops. 

She stops a foot from me, and her body is shaking as she snarls at me. “How fucking dare you.”

“You lied to me. Not once. Not twice.” I growl back. “You lie to me about everything. And I am still here. Still here trying to make a life with you.”

Her eyes narrow, and she asks, “Why?”

_ Wait, what? _

“Why are you here trying to make a life with me if I am such a fucking liar? If I am just a fucking liar that got knocked up at sixteen, dumped my kid on the woman that didn’t even want me. That’s what you are saying isn’t it?”

I shake my head, and take a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I lick my lips. Tasting my words. Knowing that the fire of poison was only going to make this worse. My hand comes up and runs over my still sleep crusted face. Squeezing at my forehead.  _ How do I fix this? _

“Clarke,” and my tone is dropped. I’m not angry, I’m sad. And I’m wrong. “I just... “

Clearly Clarke’s rage hasn’t faded though, “You what? You have made such huge fucking steps for me thinking you were getting someone else. Thinking that I will just be your perfect fan, and a piece of fucking arm candy?”

She waves to the house, “I have issues, Lexa. I have issues and I don’t deal with them like you do. I don’t put all my fucking focus into one thing or person to find my worth.”

My knees shake. My feet are heavy, but my chest is heavier. So heavy, I may fall over. Like her words were just the right vibration to topple me into knowing. Knowing that I do just that. I do exactly what she says. 

I don’t believe in me. 

I didn’t change my behavior for me. 

I did it so Clarke would love me. 

“You’re right,” I succeed. But this knowledge doesn’t change that she lies to me. It doesn’t change that I am waiting for her next bomb to drop. “But, I am too.”

She blinks. She blinks and her eyes change. Change to the soft, hurt doe eyes, and I hope this isn’t just a game. That she isn’t playing me to make me stop. Her hand comes up just enough to take mine. It’s warm, and even in the suffocating tension it is comforting. 

She nods, and says, “You are… I hate that you are.”

I reach out and pull her into me. Pull her head to my chest, and hold on to her. Breathe in my shampoo that she once made fun of, yet uses every damn day. Pressing my lips to her wet head, I just hold her there. 

Words have failed us thus far. Words are not getting us where we need to be. But they need to be said, so I pull my lips back and rest my chin on her head. 

“I want to know you, Clarke. And in spite of what I just did, I don’t judge you for your past,” She holds me tighter and I feel her chest hitch and still. She is holding her breath, and I wish I could be doing the same thing. “I want to be Jack’s other mom. I can’t imagine my future without you  _ and _ her.”

I close my eyes shutting out everything but my princessa. Her touch. Her smell. The way her body shudders as she takes a deep breath before holding it in again. 

“I know you have layers, but I can’t keep finding them out from someone else. Take your time, but please don’t keep dropping them on me like a-bomb during world war three... You’re my whole world, baby,” I try to explain to her, and I take comfort in that I am not crying. No, I am strong, and I know that this is right. 

She doesn’t say a word, so I continue. 

“You’re right that I changed for you… but I’m going to do even better. You were my inspiration. You taught me I am better. Now it’s time for me to show you that I am not better just for you… that you taught me I’m bigger than a basketball player. I’m bigger than Lexa fucking Trikru. That I'm big enough to make a difference in this world…” I feel like I am rambling, but I need her to know. I need her to know that I am going to be better. 

She pulls back slightly, and her eyes meet mine. I bite my lip to keep from just kissing her. To just fall back into bed, like we have done to solve so many of our problems. 

Her lip trembles when she says, “You asked for a year to prove yourself, Lexa. A year, and you did it in less than a month…” she pauses, “I have no doubt that you can make miracles happen in a year.”

I can’t hold back any longer. Pressing my lips to hers. It’s not sexual. It’s not the movement to take her against the wall or back to bed. It’s simple and pure connection. To my other half. 

When I pull back, I have to rest my eyes for a moment. There is still so much to say. So much to discuss, but there is no time because someone is knocking on the door. Rexa is up and barking. Her front paws scratching at the peeling paint at the bottom of the door where she is trying to dig her way out to the visitors. 

Clarke looks at me and sighs. I laugh though because seriously, “every fucking time. I thought we lived in the middle of fucking nowhere for a reason.”

She laughs, and pushes me a little towards the door. This has become a habit of sorts. Apparently people looking to tell us about God or sales people that find our out of the way house find me intimidating. I look back for a moment and smile softly at her.

“Come on, T-Rexa,” she says pulling the dog back by the collar. 

The shouting starts though as soon as I open the door. Flashes of light almost blind me, and I am so confused until I spot the bouncy brunette in front of me with kids in matching t-shirts holding signs behind her and several recorders and cameras just over the girl’s shoulder. 

“Lexa! What do you have to say about Ms. Griffin losing her job over association with you?!” one called. 

Another yelled, “Are you two an official couple, or is she just someone you see occasionally?”

Octavia glares at that one, and I lean into her, “Octavia, what are you doing?”

She hold up her hands, and signals to everyone around, “Making sure that the world knows Griffin’s fighting for what is right.” The teen is smiling, and I want to pull her inside the house.

I hear the back door close, causing me to turn. I turn and see Clarke approaching the door. Her plastic smile in place, just as it has been this morning. A part of me wants to be angry…But then I understand. I understand why in this moment, it has to be like this. 


	33. This isn't about my past

**~Clarke~**

I hear the reporters shouting at Lexa, and I realize that all of this just got that much bigger. I was already struggling with speaking before the school board. Speaking before my mo- Abby. But now, I was going to have to face the whole world. 

Lexa is pulling Octavia inside the house though and the door is quickly shut behind the girl.  _ No! No! I don’t… I can’t talk with her yet.  _ I can’t even move any closer as Lexa is towering over the girl. 

“What were you thinking?” she growls. I see her anger returning, and I know she is probably pissed that I am smiling but what else does she even expect right now. Like I am trying my best to hold it all together, and now Octavia’s here. 

She’s here, and my heart is trying to break out of my chest. I feel the weight of my failures though pressing in on me. Each side fighting a battle to see which can break me first. 

Octavia’s eyes flash to me, and I see that even as a trained little warrior she is scared of Lexa. I don’t blame her really. Lexa is big and sheer muscles. The teen’s mouth opens and shuts, but her shoulders draw back and I see her finding the strength I never was capable of. 

Her chin raises but she doesn’t look at Lexa. No, her eyes are on me. Her tone even, but respectful, “I was trying to make things better. Trying to make sure her voice is heard.”

Lexa shakes her head, and tries to explain with a heavy hand on Octavia’s shoulder, “Kid, the media doesn’t make things better. They just go for a story and don’t care about the consequences.”

Octavia blinks, and her eyes turn back to me. “Griffin, I-”

“You’re fine,” I cut her off. It’s short, but I don’t trust myself to handle this yet. To not tell her I know. To not tell her that I’m sorry for everything. That I am sorry for not being the mentor I promised. That I didn’t do enough to protect her. 

She’s trying to come closer, but Lexa holds her back. Lexa’s saddened eyes look me over and says, “They are going to attack everything about you.” She chokes, and adds, “They will attack you about me. I’m sorry I promised you no press-”

Holding my hand up, I shake my head. Closing my eyes for a moment, I sigh, and tell her, “No, Lexi, this is not about you. It’s about me and mo-Abby.”

“Technically, it is your fault,” Octavia said, and I am slightly startled by her words. She’s looking up at Lexa, as she adds, “If you hadn’t been a douche at her birthday, none of this would have happened.”

I am taken aback by her words. If Lexa hadn’t been a dick, she maybe wouldn’t have even taken a second thought about who I was. If she hadn’t been a dick, she wouldn’t have even needed to give me tickets. And something hits me. 

I don’t regret Lexa putting her hands on me. I don’t regret Lexa being a dick at the school. I don’t regret any of it because it made Lexa who she is right now. The catalyst for change. 

And… I know then. I know that I don’t regret Roan either. I can’t regret him because if I regret him, then I regret Jacky. And I don’t regret that kid for one second. 

And, I know. I know that I have to talk with Octavia. Just not now. Just not yet. 

I don’t have to yet though. I really can’t because the knocking at the door has resumed drawing all our eyes to the door. We know what is coming. We know that this may very well be disaster, but they are here and I can’t just leave them squatting outside of the door. 

“Clarke,” Lexa says, “I can call Indra.” But Octavia snorts.

Her eyes turn innocent, and she shrugs, “She wants nothing to do with you.”

I see Lexa’s eyes shut for a second, and I know that Indra has been a sore spot for Lexa. Lexa would never admit it but Indra is one of the few things she regrets losing. 

I reach out and touch her arm, forcing a soft but weak smile. I will need to fix that before I head outside, but for now Lexa knows. Lexa knows why it's there… at least I hope she does. “Lex, I got this.”

She nods, but doesn’t let Octavia go back outside when I open the door. I don’t know what they are talking about, because I can’t even really see from all the cameras and microphones in my face. In fact, I don’t even get a chance to breathe as questions start getting fired my way. 

“Clarke!” comes from the left. 

“Clarke!” another voice from the other side. 

I try not to shift my head back and forth. I am so overwhelmed, but the first question is straight to the point, “Clarke! Is it true that your sexual orientation is the reason you are being reviewed by the school board today?”

I’m not even sure where the question came from. I’m not even sure why they think this has anything thing to do with me being gay. I’m not really sure of anything, and I don’t even get a chance to answer before the next question is fired at me.

“Have you considered that you being involved with the infamous ball player Lexa Trikru might have repercussions beyond bad publicity on your person? As a teaching figure have you not considered the bad influence it could have on your students and the school district as a whole?” My eyes are wide. There are so many words to process at once. And Lexa was right. This is not just to do with me. 

I’m no one. 

This is about Lexa. 

I straighten up though, because this is about me. Me and Lexa, but still about me. So i put on my teacher face, and I look the reporter of the last question in the eye. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t really feel that who I choose to spend my life with is of anyone’s concern but mine and those close to me. However, have I considered Lexa’s past to be particularly troubling for my students, my answer is no. Ark Academy is a school for teens that have all faced tremendous challenges.” I pause for a moment, feeling the camera clicks pricking at my skin. 

I look around at my kids all smiling at me. I smile to them and I speak to them. Because this is what I do. I teach, and these people need to learn a lesson.

“Challenges are what make us people, and the truth is we often make mistakes and poor choices. It’s what we choose to do with those lessons though that make us who we are. I know that Lexa has had poor media image recently; however, I know that Lexa has taken very active steps to become a positive member in our community, and not that it is anyone’s business but she has also made me find my own strength to fight for my job back.” I want to be the goof in my class room and pretend to drop the mic right now, but my self-satisfaction is short lived. 

When I turn I see that Lexa has changed into more presentable yet still casual clothing. Her hand finds the small of my back, and I check her out in her jeans and Support Griffin t-shirt. “I’m right here, Princessa,” she whispers. 

A female reporter’s voice calls me forward again, and I look over the small brunette, “Nia Azeda, Ms. Griffin, and many of my readers are calling you a homewrecker. Do you have anything to say about these allegations?”

I look the woman square in the eyes and fight back the urge to punch her in the nose. Lexa’s hand tugs on the back of my shirt, and I know she is thinking the same thing I am. I reach back and feel Lexa’s hand intertwine with mine. “Not, that I should be needing to even address this, since it is very public knowledge that Lexa and Ms. Winters were no longer together before I met Lexa; however, to address your clearly assumptive readers, I am not the reason for their divorce and I won’t say anything else on the subject.”

I don’t even get to breathe before the next question comes my way. “Sources claim that not only did Anya Winters take responsibility for the leaked footage of yourself and Ms. Trikru but you and her have been in contact since this over legal matters. Is this true?”

_ What the fuck? _ I take a breath, and Lexa squeezes my hand lightly. I answer, “Yes, Anya tracked down the sources of the video and personally apologized for the role she was inadvertently involved in its creation. In regards to the second part of your question, it plays no role into the discussion of my teaching ability; therefore, I will leave you with no comment.”

I feel Lexa’s chest heave a little, and I know she’s laughing at me. I want to reach back and smack her, but I can’t because the attack begins, and the claws have shown by none other than Ms. Azeda. 

> That lady is a bitch, and I swear she really did do everything she could to build her name off of my life story. 

“You were living in kinship foster care with Marcus Kane, the principal of Ark Academy since you were a teenager. Isn’t his participation on the board a conflict of interest?” I don’t get a chance to answer though because another man with spikey brown hair, is asking me a different question. 

“Clarke is it true that your own mother is behind the request to pull you out of your teaching position?”

Lexa is about to step forward and protect me, and I know her little Alpha anger is tearing her up inside. But I hold my arm stiff, not letting her move before me. I hold up my hand, and explain, “In light of everything that the doctored video displayed, I’m sure that Abby Griffin felt it was her duty to warn the rest of the school board. I realize how the edited images would put me in a position of showing poor judgement, and I am certain that Dr. Griffin only has the wellbeing of our students in her mind.”

I feel my head snap, as one reporter states, “Rumors say that Dr. Griffin actually acted on a personal grudge against you.” I glare at the suited man, as he asks, “Care to explain?”

I feel my blood beginning to pulse, and I am starting to get flustered. I need this to end and end soon before I say something stupid. “What is personal will stay personal. You know as much as I do. I’m just a teacher, and for a long time I considered that to be… not enough. But I know that I am good at my job. I only want to be able to keep teaching and helping future generations of students.”

I think I’m done but new words start flowing, “I know that Ms. Vine has already address my past parental relationship with Mr. Kane, and I feel I need to address that my desire is not to air my personal life before my students. In fact before you came here and announced that my sexuality may be anything beside heteronormative, they have been entirely in the dark about my relationship status. My professional life is kept very separate from my personal life.”

“Aren’t you afraid that your past as a troubled teen who almost burned down Dr. Griffin’s home might not play in your favor?”  _ Fuck you, Nia! Fuck you! _

And I can’t hold back my anger this time, as I feel the spittle fly from my mouth as I state, “I’m going to stop you right there. I’m not being heard before the board because I am in a committed relationship with Lexa Trikru. I am not being heard because of how I grew up, or how I came to be who I am. If you are looking for a sob story, then you wouldn’t find it here.”

My arm raises a little, and I begin to talk with it. Gesturing to myself, I state, “Me being a foster kid shouldn’t have anything to do with anything other than filling your gossip piece. I became a teacher because I fell in love with helping kids find their voice. Because I found myself in a position that my past didn’t define me, as I helped my kids push past the barriers that many have put before them, and some they put there themselves. This hearing has nothing to do with who I was at fourteen, but how I have become today. Who I have become thanks to hard work and perseverance. You bring up that I am a foster kid, but skate past that I graduated high school with honors in three years, or from University Magdum Kum Lade.”

I can’t stop, because there is so much more. “You don’t address that my students’ test scores in the west valley are higher than any other school, and the fourth in the state. If you would like information regarding to success as a teacher, consider that not a single one of my students have become a repeat offender, and many are scholarship recipients to Universities across the country, including Ivy League schools. While those accomplishments belong to my kids, I know that they also speak to my ability within the classroom; therefore, I would like it to be known that: yes, I was a foster kid, and yes, I am in a relationship with a woman that I love. But what I really want people to know is that I am a damn good teacher, and I am going to fight for my place in the classroom.”

The kids behind the reporters are pushing forward, and I feel Lexa’s hand pulled from my grip as Lincoln and Gustus hoist me up on their shoulders. I am bouncing in the air as the boys grip my legs. 

The reporters are all shattered and I see Nia get shoved out of the way slightly, and she stumbles. The kids begin to chant, “All hail the Griff!” I can’t help but smile and search out the loudest voice in the group. 

The teen is thrusting her hand up in the air, her voice is loud and her smile proud, “All hail the Griff! All hail the Griff!”

Lexa is standing on the doorstep, she is still answering questions that are being thrown at her. She seems at ease, and her hand gestures to me. I can’t really hear over the kids’ chant, but I think she says, “She deserves everything. I mean there is no doubt that she can inspire kids better than I can inspire fans. Please come and support Clarke at the public school board meeting tonight. Thank you and that’s all we have to say at this time.”

The reporters seem sated and begin to pull away, talking amongst themselves. I feel the boys bending, and I slide back down to the ground. Lincoln’s smile is huge as he pulls me into a hug. It’s warm, and he smells like teenage boy, but I know the boy has struggled with letting people get close to him for a long time. 

“Thank you,” I tell him.

When he releases me, I turn to face Octavia. She is smiling, but I can’t help the small falter in my smile. She tilts her head a little, and mutters, “I’m sorry for calling them without talking to you first.”

Reaching out I pull her into me. Our arms cross around each other, and I hold her for a minute. Just me and my little sister. The mentor term taking on a whole new meaning. I press my lips to the side of her head, and tell her, “I want to talk later, but I need you to know that you did good, kid.”

She is nodding, and I feel moisture spreading through my shirt. She whispers, “You know.”

I don’t want to talk about this now. I can’t I have to stay in this mindset, so all I tell her is, “Yes, and we will talk about this after all of this,” and I wave to all around us, “is done.”

She nods then, and wipes under her eyes. I press my lips to her forehead, and release her into Lincoln’s arms. They walk together and I hear Octavia put on the same mask that I am familiar with as she turns around and says, “We’ll see you at District, Griff! Raven and John will be there too! We got you!”

I wave to them, and see Lexa leaning at the door waiting for me. Her smile is huge, and I can feel her pride radiating off and directed at me. I stand up taller under her gaze, and feel bigger somehow. 

She opens the door for me, and I quickly retreat out of the sun to the comfort of my tiny home. As soon as I hear the door click shut, I turn and press my face into her bust. Her arms wrapping around me and her lips whispering, “I am so fucking proud of you, Princessa.”

I hold my head back, and steal a kiss. But it’s not enough, so I push back and get a good look at more than the fucking jaw I want to sit on. Her warm emeralds gazing back at me. I just feel complete. 

I reach up and touch her face. “I changed for you too,” I say. “I know. I know I haven’t been showing you as well. But I am. I could have never done that before. I could never have fought back against my mom… Abby… before you. You make me strong.”

She leans down and presses her lips to mine but I pull back and say, “Let me show you just how powerful I am.”

I pull my shirt over my head, and watch her eyes fall to my breasts. I smirk, and just as she reaches out to touch me, I turn and make my way down the hall. Reaching back to unsnap my bra, and pull it off until it is dangling just off my finger. I press my head to the wall of the tiny hallway, and gaze back at Lexa. Her mouth hanging open, and tongue partially out. 

“Well are you coming?” 

I don’t wait for an answer, because I only make it two steps before she has me up and over her shoulder. Her hand smacking my ass as she carries me to the bedroom. I squirm, but she just growls, “Don’t fight my alphaness, Princessa,” and I feel her teeth bite into my jeans. 

_ Fuck me.  _


	34. What is this hearing for then?

**~Clarke~**

Lexa puts the Tesla in park, and her arm reaches over the center console to where my fingers are digging into my knees. With the air gone, I feel hot. My skin seems to be sweltering under my button-up, and I worry that any minute my make-up will melt off my face. 

Her fingers intertwine with mine. It’s slightly reassuring, but I know that this morning was a fluke. That it was fleeting, and I am not the person that stands up before a bunch of people. After all they are only going to judge me based on what they saw.

“You are an amazing teacher, Klark.” Her reassurance is so calm I kind of want to smack her. I want her to understand that this is not okay. That if this doesn’t work, then I am going to be forced in a corner of losing Jacky or marrying Lexa before her divorce even as time to settle and she gets to decide if she even wants me. Even wants Jacky. She hasn’t even met Jacky. And it’s all just too much. 

It’s so much that I snap. 

“You don’t know that,” I bite, and I don’t meet her eyes, because her hands jumps just minutely enough to tell me that my strike hit home. But she doesn’t let go. She squeezes tighter.

Her voice still steady, but a little deeper. A little more commanding. A little more dominant, as she tells me, “I was there on your birthday. If you weren’t amazing those kids wouldn’t have cared enough. If you weren’t amazing you wouldn’t come home every day bragging about how fucking awesome your day was. If you weren’t amazing, Princessa, those kids wouldn’t have rallied outside the house today.”

Glancing over at her, I see her eyes searching me. Trying to find a hint of what she is saying is finding any purchase. And truthfully it was. I still felt not enough though. Not big enough. Not strong enough. Biting my lips, I try to smile. 

Her hand releases mine, sneaking up until her thumb is pressing on my chin. The pressure causes me to release my lip, and she says, “Can’t having you going in looking like a vampire.”

I chuckle lightly, because Lexa was so clueless about classical literature. I tell her, “Actually humans would be drawn to the vampire. It’s part of their physiology, making it easier for the vampire to seduce their prey.”

Lexa’s mouth drops open, and stutters, “But.. that… no, that’s… it’s just not right.”

I shrug, adding, “Well, if you were alive for hundreds of years, wouldn’t you develop some smooth ways to pick up women?”

I see her chin tilt downward and her eyes narrow, “Picking up women has never been a problem for me, Klark.” With a slightly turn of my head and a quirk of my brow, I see her predatory gaze fade into a blumbering doofus. “Well… I mean…” but she doesn’t try to finish her sentence. 

I tap her leg, because I know we need to get out of the car. I know that we need to get inside.  _ Why does this have to be so fucking hard though? _

“I think I’m ready,” I tell her. She nods, because we both know there are no words to really make this okay right now. 

As I exit the car, I take in the vast amount of beat up trucks and paint chipped sedans in the lot. Along the outside road, several station vans are parked with reports speaking into cameras. There is slight movement that catches my eyes just off to the left. 

I recognize the Lexus SUV almost immediately, but the movement is from two tiny brunettes. Octavia standing before Abby in her rally t-shirt. Her hand is holding her phone up in Abby’s face. I can’t help but see sadness creased in Abby’s brow and the corner of her eyes. 

I don't know if I look the same, and I don’t know why but I have the sudden urge to run over to the kid and put myself between them. Use my body as a shield to protect Octavia from the woman that once loved me. The woman that once sang me to sleep, and strummed her fingers over my back. But not now… No, now she will stop at nothing to break me down. She will not hesitate to steal my daughter. Steal my job. And, I can’t let her do that to Octavia.

Octavia, who has already been through too much. Been through so much that I let happen. Another tally mark added to the long score of times and people that I have failed. 

Abby’s eyes scan over Octavia, who is still talking and they lock on me. Her gaze making my head feel light and heart attempt to overcompensate from what I feel like may be the lack of blood. 

Lexa’s hand finds the small of my back, and I feel her strength trying to make a connection. I could let it. I mean, I think I could. But I don’t. I don’t because I want to do this. I want to do this and show Lexa that I can be strong. I want to show Abby that I am the daughter she always hoped for. That for the last eight years I dreamed of becoming. 

Octavia turns to me and calls out, “Hey Griffin! I was just showing your  _ mom _ the footage from this morning!”

Of course she was. And of course she just blatantly announced the thing that Abby had been stripping me of for the past week.  _ She’s not my mom. She said so.  _ But it didn’t hurt any less. I mean, I never expected it even after she told me that I wasn’t hers the first time. 

I look up at Lexa, and feel her arms wrap around my middle. Holding me protectively.  _ I love you _ , I think, but I can’t get my lips to work. Not when Abby is maneuvering around Octavia, and heading into the building without so much as a nod of acknowledgement.

Turning to Lexa, I place my ear over her heart. Listening to the steady rhythm is calming. I look up at her, and whisper, “How about we just get married and forget this whole thing.” It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous, but marrying into the unknown honestly seems so much easier that actual practicing what I have spent my years teaching. 

Lexa doesn’t blink though. Her mask in place, as her lips hit my head, and she says, “I’m going to marry you, but we both know you can do this.”

I want to argue. I want to tell her that no, I can’t. I don’t though. I don’t and I hear the reminder of why. “One day Jacky will know of this,” she states, “and when she does, she’ll know how her mother fought back and won.”

“What if I lose?” I ask, knowing that there is still a huge possibility of that. Lexa doesn’t get to answer though.

She can’t answer as a familiar irritated voice makes me jump. “They have already seen you two in an intimate embrace, and the news crews don’t need to be airing this.” 

I turn and see the dark eyes shining in the now waning light. Indra doesn’t smile, nor move to act any normal form of societal greeting. Lexa moves to my side, as Indra approaches. The woman’s walk is powerful and precise. She knows this game and is well prepared. 

When she gets close enough, Octavia has met her at her side, and says, “I showed her how well you did this morning, and well… she has some pointers.”

Lexa nods, and Indra stares into me. I have met Indra a few times but never like this. Never been under her scrutiny, and to be honest it is terrifying. More terrifying than talking inside that building. 

“Straighten your back,” she says, before adding, “You look weak.”

I don’t know why but I do. My shoulders rising, and my head feeling higher. The unnatural stance is uncomfortable, but I fight the urge to slump back down. Times like these I wish my tits weighed less to be honest. 

Indra circles me, taking in my attire. Her words are brief, but I know she is right, “This morning you were too flippant and personal. Answer their questions and keep them focused on your professional achievements. Don’t shake down their road into your personal life, and if they press remind them that your personal and professional life are not the same.”

“I understand,” I say.

She looks at Lexa, and says, “You cannot defend her. Right now you are the problem. So you need to stay seated and calm.” I watch as Lexa’s eyes fall to me, and after a heavy swallow, she nods in affirmation. 

“Good,” is all Indra adds, before ushering us from the parking lot into the rather loud meeting area. 

There are more bodies than there were cars. The homemade posters shoot into the air, as cheers and fighting chants break out. The fluorescents lighting hurt my eyes that finally adjust to the darkness outside, and I see the clean path to the podium. The podium before the twelve board members looking back at me. Most of the faces are clearly unamused and it makes me wonder why they got into education if clearly they dislike teenagers so much.

We walk down the aisle, and I notice the female a head taller than those in the crowd leaning against the wall. She doesn’t smile, but stands still with her arms crossed her chest. I nod to her, and she reciprocates the gesture. When I look back forward, I notice that Marcus is pointing to Anya to several of the board members that hadn’t been present on Monday. 

There is a harsh knock on the semi circular desk, and a lean woman with sharp blue eyes calls everyone to attention. “If we can have everyone seated. It is clear that the agenda for tonight will need to be altered, since Ms. Griffin has clearly brought her own personal fanclub to this hearing.”

Jasper shoots up from his seat that he has just taken, and shouts “Hey, this is our lives you are talking about. Tonight you’ll go home and forget about all of us, but Griffin actually gives a damn.”

The knocking continued, as Jasper raised his arm up calling a cheer from the other students of various ages. I see few parents in the room, but that’s honestly to be expected considering that most of my students are delinquents. 

“Mr. Jordan, please take your seat,” Marcus stated. His eyes warm and I hope he appreciates clearly what his students have comes to stand for. 

Jasper sat back down in his chair, and I smile to him. He flashes me a dorky thumbs up and adjusts the sky goggles on his head. I never understood the goggles, but whatever, they make him happy. 

The woman speaks again, “As I was saying, Ms. Griffin, if you would step up to the podium. It is clear we need to deal with you first.”

The podium can’t be more than fifteen feet away. I’m pretty sure that is the the longest fifteen feet I have ever seen before. So far that the door seems that much closer. So much closer to run out the door, but as I stand still with all eyes on me, I find that I can’t move. My feet having grown roots through the  birch colored floor boards, and were fighting through the cement foundation. 

I hear it before I can even process that it comes from Lincoln. His low rumble of confidence. “Griffin, if this is your abyss then your Hero’s Journey is just a few feet from your transformation.”

And I realize that this is just another classroom. Just another classroom with a new set of grumbly students. A new classroom with students ready to challenge me. But the thing is, I’m a teacher. I’m not just a teacher, I’m the teacher. And it’s time to teach these fuckers a lesson.

My first step is surprisingly easy, and the ones that follow carry me with my shoulders back to the center of the room. The podium, rising to the middle of my chest and the bulk of the microphone honestly blocking if not all of my face. 

Glancing at the name tag before the woman, looking sternly at me, I put a name to a face. Luna Isles.

She begins before I can read through the other unfamiliar names. Her voice is cold and callous as she reads the charges to me, as though I’m fighting for my life in a murder trial.  “Ms. Griffin, it has come to the board's attention that you have partaken in a quarrel that has shed negative light on yourself and Ark Academy, as you are one of its representation.”

Luna shuffles a set of papers in front of herself before she continues, “I have seen the footage myself and though I agree with some of my colleagues that it has been ludicrously edited to hurt you personally, it is not less damaging for the school's image and its shareholders. I don't need to remind you that Ark Academy has only been granted a place in the district thanks to generous donations and the support of associations that care for the education of those less fortunate. Since we deemed unfair to judge you mainly on the poor allegations made by that video that still degraded your image as person of influence to the youth of this school, we would like to give the occasion of explaining yourself over those allegations.”

She leans back in her chair, giving me the floor. I clear my throat, trying to find my words. They are stuck in my throat as I see Abby glaring at me. Her eyes roll as she watches me start to fail. Fail again. 

I stare at the microphone, and realize there isn’t a cord. Quickly, I reach forward and take it from the small metal stand. I never was a lecture teacher, and I sure as hell am not going to start now . 

Moving around the podium, I raise the microphone to my lips, and take one last deep breath. I consider where to begin, but the small voice in the back of my head tells me,  _ take responsibility.  _ Slowly, I say, “Ladies and gentlemen of the board, initially I would like to thank you for giving the opportunity to address the outrageous video. I must first admit that I have clearly been in a situation that allowed for the video to be created; however, none of my actions were with the intention of breaking any laws or to make a name for myself. However, I do take responsibility for putting myself in a precarious situation that resulted in legal actions involving others.”

My mind is racing on where to go from here, as I watch several members of the board lean into each other whispering. My gut reminds me,  _ next an apology. _

I lock eyes with Abby, as I say, “I apologize that we have to meet on this matter at all. While the video was clips cut from various situations, it is as you say no less hurtful. I feel the need to explain that the video was made without my knowledge and was used against me and my partner to tarnish both our reputations and by extent affect our day jobs. Though the footage showcased a personal matter, I understand that it became public concern when the media took over and made a bigger mess. I cannot change the fact that many have seen the video, even though it has been removed. I understand how we all are in a time where even something that is innocent or taken out of context can hurt so many people. Personally, I have experienced this very effect from this event that has created a ripple through my personal and professional life.”

I take a breath, scanning the room. I know I have disregarded what Indra told me about making this personal. However, it is personal. And I’m going to win this. 

“There are many things in my life that I am not proud of. There are many things that I still need to apologize for, and many people that deserve an apology. This though is really low on the list of things to apologize for. I did not begin a fight in a bar. I did not pronounce that I was a whore to be cute. As a matter of fact, just the opposite. In the context of the event, I was stating that I was in fact not a whore.”

I look to each member, holding their eyes, as I walk closer to Abby’s side of the table. I don’t look at her, no, I actually turn my back to them all and address my students. “Every member of Ark Academy has at some point found themselves in a situation that they felt manipulated, however, that does not change the fact that we are all incredible and intelligent people. That we have the power to fight for justice.” My eyes find Octavia, “and the knowledge to apologize for when we hurt someone.”

I turn on a heel though, and face the older people. “I truthfully though do not need to apologize for someone making a ridiculous video of me. I feel that while I will apologize for the light it shined on me, I have at no point in this entire situation done anything wrong. In fact, I did what we teach our kids to do when someone bullies you. I kept my head up, and I didn’t succumb to the hatred. Because clearly the person who created the video holds much contempt for me. Once again though, that is personal. Not my professional life.”

_ Move to attack the problem. _

“The truth is, I have the highest test results in the entire west valley of the Phoenix area. My students are out scoring schools catered to the privileged and marketed for the ‘smartest’ kids in the area.”

I look back at my kids and smile. Holding out my hand to them, I state, “These young people are truly talented, and I am privileged to work with them. I get the opportunity to listen to them dig deep into subjects that most people would rather not acknowledge, like they would rather not acknowledge the young adults here today, or the way you all would rather not acknowledge that it is not my face on youtube, or my relationship that makes our students great. It is not that I could ruin the school's reputation. I mean after all the school’s reputation is catering to the rehabilitation of youth. We are actively trying to show students that their past doesn’t define them, yet you are asking me to accept that an altered video is the definition of my character.” I shake my head, “But I can’t buy into that. Because I am not no one.”

I look into Abby’s eyes, as I stand tall.  _ Maybe this is too much _ , I worry momentarily. But I can’t help it. I feel like I tower over these people that are still heads above me. “I am the person that doesn’t come to work to do the job. I am the person that comes to work with enough energy and passion that my entire student body has crowded into this room to enact their constitutional rights. The students that society rejected, just as you are trying to reject me.”

I take a breath, and look over the board members. It’s the pride in Marcus’ eyes that gives me the courage to finish what I started. “Because the fact of the matter is, no words could amount to the number of faces standing before you now. Nothing can amount to the way in which these beautiful people that will be our leaders in spite of their pasts are not telling you now. That I am not the woman in that video. That I am the best damn teacher for them, and that I am worth this chance you would be taking on me.”

I drop the mic to my side, and my kids are standing and clapping behind me. I feel a sense of accomplishment. 

Well, I did until the smaller dark haired female speaks, “As you are now in the public eye through your relationship with a notorious sports figure, the board convene on the matter and complaints we received regarding the impact such affair could have on the impressionable minds of our students.” She pauses for a moment as the murmurs from my students are becoming gradually louder. I hold up my hand, and silence fills the room. I see the woman scan the room as my students become silent, almost holding their collective breath. 

The woman turns back to me, as my hand lowers. She looks to Luna for a moment, as she tries to continue, fumbling a little, “Some… a few of our members... and parents fear that your 'lifestyle' isn't in accordance with their beliefs and that such 'lifestyle' is inappropriate for a teacher that spends most of the time with underaged teenagers.”

That height I reached is knocked out of me. They are trying to fire me for being with Lexa. That being in the public eye with another woman is…  _ inappropriate. _ My eyes fall to the ground and I trace the floor boards until I find Lexa’s huge feet. As I follow her body up, I lock on the t-shirt she has at some point pulled on. My face peaking out from her black jacket.  _ She believes in me.  _

Before I can move though, I hear a young female voice behind me yell out, “I’m a lesbian and I need a role model that shows me I am not less than another!” I see Charlotte standing on her chair. Her back hunches with the attention, but she still stands tall and strong. I smile at her. 

Two move voices spring out of the crowd, and I see Miller and Monty hop to their feet. “We’re gay” and Monty adds, “and we need to have people in positions that tell us we are not abnormal.”

“That’s pretty much what you are saying right?” Miller asks loudly. “I mean she never labeled herself. You decided she must be a homo because she is with Lexa. But the truth is she could be bi. I mean she has a kid, so are you going to rehire her if she leaves Lexa for a dude?”

_ Wait what?! How does Miller know about Jacky?  _ I feel my heart beating too fast again. Glancing over at Abby I see her own shocked face. Truly Jacky had always been our best kept secret. But as my eyes wander to Octavia, I see her mouth the word, “Sorry.”

It becomes clear now that there will be many questions if I get to return to my classroom. But for some reason I just laugh. I mean Jacky is coming home. I will already have to explain that to my students, so I guess now they all know. 

Several more students stand up, declaring their sexuality. Many I had expected, and several I had helped them at one point tell their families. But this is surreal. The board wants to fire me for having a same-sex relationship. 

Turning towards the board, I look over the members. Looking at Abby, I ask, “Excuse me, Dr. Griffin, but I was just wondering if you would mind stating your religious affiliations if you have any.”

Abby’s chin turns just enough to tell me I caught her off guard. She says, “Not that it is anyone’s business, however, I am an atheist.”

I nod, and look to the woman that questioned me, “I guess Dr. Griffin should be removed from the board for not holding the same ideologies as other members of the board, since I am aware that Mr. Kane is a practicing Catholic.” I point to the woman’s necklace, and say, “The symbol on your necklace tells me you are a practicing Buddhist. Do you feel it would be right for me claim that you have no place at Ark Academy?”

I don’t know how I find this grove, but I dig in deeper, pulling from my vast storage of studies. “Religion is continuously a controversy. I mean just flip on the news and we are having presidential debates referencing if Islamic people should be allowed into the country once claiming to take all of ‘your tired and weary.’ We have historically discriminated against people for religious affiliation, and attempted to demand the following of Euro-Christian ideologies. Which if we were truly to aspire to would justify our murder of young people that disobey their parents, no matter how wrong the parent is. However, that is never enough. No, fights over race, gender, and now you claim I am a bad influence due to my partnership with a woman.”

I move back to my kids, “Ark Academy is a public place of education, where students need not fear being stigmatized for their sexuality, where many other schools are seeing a rise in suicides and even open shootings because of how society is instilling fear of even being presumed gay.” I turn on my heel, facing down my tribunal. “yet, you are asking for us to further that thinking. That LGBTQ+ people should be ashamed and hide their relationships. For if I was living with a man, I can properly assume, no phone calls would be made. No one would be upset that I am still living a  _ sinful _ lifestyle, even though, I do not prescribe to the Christian ideologies that would even acknowledge the concept of sin.”

The woman turns to Jaha alongside of her. He is looking around, and then carefully leans into his microphone, “Ms. Griffin, the religious affiliations of board members are not as… detrimental to our youth as your  _ personal _ activities.”

My head drops and I shake it for a minute.  _ My personal activities. What the fuck? _

Looking back up at Jaha, I tilt my head, and ask, “Sir, what do you know about my quote unquote personal activities?”

He glances from side to side, “You stated you were in partnership with Ms. Trikru and her  _ activities _ have been rather public. It can-”

I hold up my hand, and stop him. “I’m sorry sir, but I feel you are attempting to discuss whether or not Lexa and I have at any point or at any point plan to have sex. That is not only inappropriate, but extremely disrespectful. Maybe you should be on trial for creating a poor moral example in front of our students.” I hold my hand out to my students, “After all, the discussion of sexual education should only be held within the health classroom according to the State of Arizona.”

I can tell that Jaha is getting flustered, and I feel like I have definitely earned the upper hand, as I ask him, “So before you claim to known my quote unquote personal activities, I would appreciate you show me more respect than to ask me what takes place in my bedroom.”

The kids are up again, as reporters that had filtered into the room are busily chatting into their cameras. The calls of war. 

“ Order in the room please. Miss Griffin, though your speech was well educated, I speak for this assembly when I say that we are diverting from the subject of this board hearing,” Luna is saying, but her voice is drowning under the calls of my students. 

Again I hold up my hand, and quickly the voices calm, though I hear no one moving. No they all still stand waiting for our judgement together. 

I look at Luna, and sigh, “but are we diverting though? Clearly your incessant questioning about my ability to perform my role as a teacher while being gay asked for my well educated speech as you called it. However, you are correct. This conversation was diverted long before we even entered the room. This is not a question of whether I am a good teacher. Looking around, that is already obvious. Either my presumed sexuality is at the core of all this dispute or it is not. Either i'm being segregated for my presumed sexual preferences or my presumed sexuality is being used as an excuse for another problem I would like the board to honestly address why we are here. Because you yourself admitted that this is not about a video. It is about image. And I guess the real question is what kind of image is Ark Academy going to have after this blatant attack on me for my presumed LGBTQ affiliation.”

Luna looks down the lines of board members and either side of her. It’s clear she is not going to address my questions. Rather she states, “I feel at this time, it would be best that we call to vote concerning the reinstatement of Ms. Griffin or finalizing her dismissal.”

Several members nod, and I hold my breath. This is it. This is my fate, in the hands of people lacking any real affiliation with the school. I close my eyes, not able to watch them vote. 

“All those in favor of reinstating Ms. Griffin please raise your hand.”

The moments are agony. Each too long, as I feel my lungs burning for air. My head begging for air so I can run. So I can run out of the room before they tell me I went too far. I fight it though. I fight my body, and wait.

Wait for the cacophony of shouts at my back. 

The eruption of cheers at my back pounding into me that tells me I am not fired. Opening my eyes, I see a majority of hands raised slightly. Marcus, and the dark haired woman. Luna and others. But the hand that means the most is Abby’s.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am known for writing my life, and Lowiiie helped me push this a little further, because people need to be aware of what is taking place in our world.  
> In many places, you can be fired for being LGBTQ, as we are not protected under many discrimination for employment laws. I am currently awaiting to hear from my district regarding a complaint from a student's parent that found my gofundme, which my fiancee and I began to receive assistance as we are attempting to open our home to foster children. This has to be the most degrading professional experience of my life. Thank you for reading as always.   
> We look forward to hearing from you.   
> -Luxi


	35. Well... now its out there.

**~Lexa~**

I’m out of my seat before Clarke is even breathing. I know she must be holding her breath, since I have been holding mine for most of her speech. Trying to give her as much oxygen in the room as possible since she is clearly burning quickly and I worry that the fire will extinguish before she has earned her right to drop the mic.

And the mic did drops before I make it through the kids rushing around me. Tops of heads bouncing as they push and congratulate themselves. I push through them, years of training proving beneficial. Getting closer to the blonde who is just starting to turn towards me, and launches herself into my arms.

For a tiny little person, her leap is truly impressive, and I catch her. I catch her by her thighs pulling her up to my eye level, as her arms wrap around my neck. Holding her up and close, just wanting to take in the biggest grin I have ever seen plastered across her face.

“I did it,” she whispers. It is almost too quiet as the area behind them is still filled with rowdy teenager voices, and Luna is still trying to regain a calm atmosphere, for the meeting clearly has yet to be adjourned.

Pressing my forehead to hers, I just take in the beauty of her smile that is still just so big. Probably the biggest I have ever seen Clarke smile. Her perfect teeth, and heavenly eyes. The rush overcomes me, and the words are out before I even have a chance to think about them.

“Marry me.”

I immediately start kicking myself, because I had planned a speech. I had planned on telling her how special she was, how perfect she was, how I wanted nothing more than to make her and Jacky happy. And now I fucked it up.

Her eyes are shining though as her head pulls back. Her weight resting in my arms. A smile maybe minutely bigger, as she nods. Her head bobbing up and down, before her lips crash into mine.

Our first kiss as an engaged couple… Holy shit... I just fucking proposed to a woman I have known for a month.

 

> I totally panicked for a decent ten minutes after I proposed. It wasn’t because I just spit out the words. Proposing was always the plan. The ring already bought and hidden in behind the red stickers text, whose enormity in size alone made me believe it should have been red stickers before ever published. 

I couldn’t move, as we relearn each other in front of the homophobic board. I smile as we break apart, and Clarke is glancing back at the adults staring at us. I nudge her with my nose, and tell her, “They gave me the Visibility Award for a reason.”

Clarke laughs, but I let her down. Her head tilts up, and I tell her loud enough for the small remaining crowd, “I kinda screwed that up. I don’t just want you to marry me, Clarke Griffin.” Her eyes widen and they are large gazing up at me.

Taking her hands in mine, I drop to one knee. The proper way of doing things. The way that I should’ve proposed to Anya, but didn’t. Looking up into her now tear brimmed eyes, I start with, “It’s been hardly any time, but still I feel like I have been preparing to meet you my whole life. I am the woman I am because of you Clarke Griffin. Because of your unwavering confidence in me, and the way your arms were always there to catch me when I fell.”

Every cell in my body uniting as one, as I publicly proclaim my love to her. Fighting back the shake in my hands so she will see that she is getting a strong partner. “I promise not to lead you, but to walk alongside you. I promise to make your family as my family, your daughter as my daughter. To treat your needs as though they are my own. Fealty is not even strong enough of a word to express to you how I wish to intertwine our lives.”

The first few tears begin to stream from her eyes, but they are not the ugly tears of pain. No, just track of her emotion showing me that she feels what I feel. So I swallow back my fear, and complete my pledge, “I love you with every fiber of my being. My body is your body, my life your life. Please, Clarke Griffin honor me with accepting my hand in marriage, where I will spend my life proving to you my love.”

She nods again, her hands trembling in mine. She opens her mouth, but closes it again. Tears continue to fall so easily, casting a steady flush over her nose and cheeks. Carefully, she opens her delicate mouth again, and says, “Yes… Lexa Trikru I want to fucking marry you.”

The snort escapes before I can hold it back. The laughter follows, because Clarke knows how much I love the word fuck. The word capable of being used in every sentence.

Her hands tug me, and I start to get up. I pause for a moment seeing Anya still leaning against the wall behind Clarke. My blonde turns, seeing my attention shift, and she watches me carefully. I thought Anya would have left with everyone else, but I realize my mistake. Anya would never have attempted to press through a crowd of teens. No, and now she watched me propose to Clarke only two weeks after signing the divorce papers. _Was it even two weeks ago?_ I don’t even know.

Anya pushes off the wall, and approaches us. I hold tight to Clarke’s hand even though I know that Anya has never been a jealous person. The dark eyes not locked on me, but on my little omega.

When she is within reach, Anya holds out her arm to Clarke. Blue eyes fall to the social gesture, and I wonder if my blonde is worried that Anya will try to kiss her again. If Clarke will worry that this is about to turn into an OP3, but she takes Anya’s arm.

My ex wife’s tone is somewhat playful as she states, “Since you get to marry my former wife, I get to fuck your sister without you being angry.”

Trying to hold back my second laugh is impossible, the rumbling shake threatens to almost double me over. Even after Clarke’s hand swiftly swats me for being an ass. But like seriously, of all the things Anya could have said, this had to be one of the more priceless.

Shaking her head, Clarke whispers, “Why is our little lesbian circle so fucking intertwined, it’s a worse overlap than the fucking L-word. I feel like we need to get an Alice Pieszecki chart.” The reference has Anya and I both laughing.

The board is still discussing things, and Anya nods her head to them. She says, “I still have work to do, but I understand that there will be a gathering at your house, Clarke, so I will see you both there later.”

Clarke eyes shoot up at me, “At… what?”

I shrug, and mumble, “No one tells me shit.” I don’t mean it like a slap, but it definitely comes out that way.

She tugs me to a stop just inside the doors. We don’t know what we will find on the other side, so she takes a moment. Just a short moment to tell me, “As your fiancee, I promise to share with you my life. The parts of me that are kind and uplifting, and the parts that are scary and I wish to be buried. I promise no more secrets.”

 

> HA! No more secrets my ass.

I smile though, and press another kiss to her head. I feel her slip her hand around my waist and grab my side as she presses her body against mine. Side by side, as I wish for our life together to be.

As we push open the doors, I am taken full force by the undeniable imagery that accompanies our short walk down the aisle to as cheers erupted from all of Clarke’s supporters just outside. When I look to Clarke, I can’t help to image her in the white dress and folded back veil. It’s hard to tear my eyes from her, but the voice recorders and microphones thrust in our faces makes it hard to process anything else.

Bulbs flash, and I blink back. I want to focus, but sparks are still peppering my vision. I shake my head, as a young male reporter asks, “Miss Griffin, today is a great victory for you personally but also for all the victims of sexually orientated discrimination. How do you feel knowing your voice has been heard loud and clear in this room and beyond its walls?”

Clarke glances up at me, and I feel her hand squeeze my arm just a little. She bounces a little, find her ease under the camera’s light. She explains, “It feels really great. I know that I came here first to have justice for myself but if my personal experience can help at least one person out there then it will at least let them know they are not alone.”

My chest puffs up in pride at her answer. Watching her I realize that I am not the only one that has changed over the last few months. No, my precious princessa has also changed into a fierce warrior. And I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful that Clarke feels stronger, because I know that after tonight, we are about to face some demons that will need this courage.

I see the older reporter from this morning, and I remember her insulting line of questions from earlier. I also recognize her as one of my biggest fucking haters. I guess it was kinda my fault, I mean I did insult her little column when I first started. _Or there was also that one night I may have met her daughter, a friend of Cos’_ . _Maybe the first time Cos didn’t try to fight me about potentially bring another girl to my bed with us._

I can tell shit is about to go too far, as her hand raises and she calls out, “Miss Griffin!” When Clarke doesn’t pay her immediate mind, she calls again, “Miss Griffin!”

My blonde raises her head, and gives the villain her attention. Nia smiles. A creeper smile that sends a shiver up my spine, making the hair on my arms stand on in. Her voice clear and too many octaves high to be genuine, as she gestures to the crowd, “You have assemble quite the little army out there.” It was a statement not a question, and Clarke’s grip squeezes a little tighter, as I see her smile take that plastic glamour. “One would think that the board would have felt pressured to give you your position back regardless of your clear main agenda.”

Clarke nor I have a chance to respond, when Indra is pushing before us. Taking on the heat of the words. Attempting to deflect the attention, telling the reporters that any further questions for Ms. Griffin can be redirected to her office.

But Nia was still yelling over Indra, “Tell me, how does one feel when they used their own sexuality as a way to victimize themselves in order to force the hand of concerned citizens into pleading in your favor.” She lets out a subtle laugh and looking around at all the angry and bewildered teens around her, “Clearly you're not the most truthful person if I believe the allegations heard in that very room. Do you think your little girl would be proud of her mom for standing for her right to date a worn out player. One whose dating sheet resemble the police file of most of your students?”

Octavia is next to Indra then, her face in Nia’s telling the woman to, “Back. The. Fuck. Off.” Indra’s hand is holding the girl back from potentially doing damage to the already unattractive face.

Nia just laughs though, “Clearly, Ms. Griffin has provided you such a positive example as your Big Sister. A true role model for society and the perverse LGBTQ community.”

The crowd gets louder as Nia’s words carry. I want to stand up, but suddenly there is a hand on me and I realize Clarke and I are being pulled to the side. I turn abruptly to the side and see Anya snarling. Her normally cool exterior is flushed, as she hisses, “You had to fuck over her kid didn’t you, Lex.”

“I…” I try but it’s no use. We both know what I did to so many daughters. So many girls I hurt in my pursuit of self perceived power. And Nia’s kid, Ontari was it? Yeah, that kid was a closet case just looking for a moment of freedom from her mother’s mandated closet.

Anya shakes her head as she guides us to the car with Raven and John trailing quickly behind keeping the kids back from following us. “I’m not angry, Lex. Just… of all the kids, you fucked the one whose mother focuses on berating any person that represents _family_.”

Clarke’s eyes are one me, and I know I need to explain. I open my lips prepared to tell her everything, but she presses two fingers to my lips, saying, “Later. We can talk batting line ups later.”

Anya snorts though, and says, “You mean a football roster for Lexa.”

Clarke turns her narrowed eyes to my ex, and says, “Yeah, well I got one that may rival, so shut it General Bitchy.”

My mouth falls open, and feel like any minute I may need to intercept Clarke from Anya’s wrath, but Anya fucking smiles. She leans forward, and kisses Clarke’s cheek, adding, “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

I grab Anya by her arm pulling her back from Clarke. My blood is boiling, as I tell her, “Mine.” Anya tilts her head and shrugs. Glancing back at a smirking Raven.

“You’re so fun to fuck with, Lex,” she says. Holding out her hand, she commands me and my fiancee, “Now, get in the car and get your asses out of here.”

I growl a little, because she doesn’t get to command me. Not anymore. Not ever again, but Clarke is standing up to Anya, and I watch as my omega puffs up her chest. Her miniscule growl is accompanied by her claim, “You don’t give the orders here.” She nods over to Raven, and says real quietly, “And watch your ass because that one has a thing for sneaking in a finger.”

I feel my jaw drops again while Anya is steadily measuring the cocky smirk growing on Raven’s face. Her hand is up. Middle and index finger together while her thumb holds her ring finger down, leaving just the pinky erect. The smirk tells me Clarke… well that just opened a whole new set of ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENTS, Please!


	36. Chapter 36

Hello,

Sorry everyone. I swear, I was trying to update my fics today but someone was claiming to be me on tumblr. It turned into a huge mess, and somehow I got talked into doing a periscope tomorrow to prove myself. However, here is the deal. I am luxstoryteller on tumblr, it is also my gmail. You can find me on twitter at @bluespicer. I am not really sure how to do the whole periscope thing but I will be doing it tomorrow at 11am my time. If you’re interested you can watch me make a fool of myself as I show you how Lowiiie and I write a chapter together. I will answer as many questions as possible. I am not sure how long I will be doing it but.... yeah, this is apparently happening. Also, Lexfingtrikru on tumblr is not me. 

Best wishes,

Luxi


	37. I'm not alone.

**~Clarke~**

Lexa maneuvers the tiny car around the conglomeration of beat up trucks and used sedans. There have never been this many cars parked outside of my house before. I live in middle of nowhere to ensure that there will never be this many cars parked outside of my house. But there are this many cars, and I can’t hold back the words that fall from my lips. 

“What the hell?” I turn to take in Lexa’s still smiling face. Almost childlike innocence plays off her grin, and I shake my head. “What the hell? I heard about some gathering not full-on raging spring break party?"

Lexa snorts back a laugh and hops out of the car. I don’t even know how she can get out of the car without rolling out of it and into the damn dirt considering how low the fucking thing is, but she does. She is up and out and around the car faster than I can even get my door open. Which seems to be something she planned on, because she is opening the door and she is holding a hand out to me. 

As I take it, I see the Mercedes pull up just at the street. Raven is out of the car in a second, and I watch her move to the driver’s side. There is only one person I know that would drive a car as nice, if not nicer than Lexa’s. But it doesn’t appear that Anya is getting out of the vehicle.  Glancing up at Lexa, I see her watching the same scene as Raven leans down and the tinted windows blocks any sign of what they are doing. 

“Is she not coming in?” I ask, and Lexa surprisingly nods.

Turning to me, she explains, “Anya does not go to places she is not directly invited to.”

I scrunch my eyebrows at her. The woman ruined our first date. Showed up at my work, and then my house to brawl with me and Lexa, and  _ now  _ she won’t come inside. “This is ridiculous.”

I move around the Telsa with Lexa’s hand still in tow. I am practically dragging her ass behind me, which is slightly annoying. I mean yeah Anya’s your ex but I’m your fiancee and she is about to hook up with my sister, so we just need to embrace the fucked up lesbo circle and move on with our lives.  _ Whew!  _ Even my brain is exhausted from that thought process, but I don’t slow down. 

Hip checking Raven when I reach the window I lean in just enough that I can pull back before Anya can try and put her lips on me again. The brown eyes meeting mine are nothing but challenging. I wonder if her expression really ever shifts that much or if it’s just the way I get Anya. 

“Apparently there’s a keg party in my backyard, so what the fuck are you still doing in the car?” I probably could have said that a little nicer. I probably could have been a little more lady like.  _ Oh well! _

INDENT: Yeah, I was kind of high on power that night. It was like everything that had been beating me down was lifted. I got to keep my job. I got to be a big deal. I was getting to see my kid the next day. Hell even the confrontation with Abby when she walked into my house unexpectedly could have gone a lot worse. 

Anya doesn’t say anything, so I raise an eyebrow at her. I wait for a moment, or maybe a second. I mean my time judgement skills are on the fritz like ninety percent of the time. But yeah, I reach in and tug at the handle of the door. Walking it backwards before casting a glance to my sister from another mister, or something like that, and stating, “Get your damn girl.”

Raven’s eyes flash between caution and excitement. The shady line that I know I have ultimate control over. As Anya gets out of the car in her overpriced designer clothes I consider getting John to throw Rexa’s ball at her, but as I look at the way Raven takes in the other woman I twist my mouth and surrender that I am going to have to be nice to Anya. 

“Look, I am happy that you both found whatever twisted snarky shit is going to happen,” and I point a finger to Anya, “You hurt her, I’ll hurt you.” 

Twisting my attention to Raven, I glare at her, “And you… no taking the easy way out. If you are not happy, then you be honest. This is like some fucked up twisted family we have going and Thanksgiving cannot be awkward.” Raven’s arms are around me faster than I can process and Anya’s fuckign lips are on my cheek even faster.  _ God damn it! Lexa is going to murder her.  _

Anya is up and away, before Raven releases me. We don’t really even get to move though, because John is running like a banshee towards us yelling, “Family hug!” He encases us both, and I feel his gross boy-man sweat touching me.

“Get off me perv,” I say, but my siblings just cling to me tighter. “Lexi!!” Her laughter is present but not close enough and not getting my damn siblings to let me go. 

“Lexa fucking Trikru I swear to every higher power if you don’t get them off of me you will sleep on that fancy new pull out couch while I lay in bed and play with myself,” and a hand comes out of nowhere. John is ripped off first with a loud “Hey!” and Raven is pulled back by her waist before Lexa even has a chance to get her hands near her. 

I hear Anya whisper, “Never come between Lexa and pussy.” I laugh at the innuendo as Lexa’s arms wrap around me and shield me from further fluffy assault. 

Her lips are close to my ear as she whispers, “Mine.”

Turning to weave my arms under hers and around her waist, I take a moment just to appreciate that I have Lexa Trikru. That Lexa Trikru is mine, and she wants me to be hers. 

Raven is gagging behind us, and Lexa gradually releases me enough to take my hand. She lets me lead us all to the house, where I am grateful to find that the party has been contained in the backyard. The three following Lexa and me didn’t pause as John leads them to where the party is.

Lexa halts us before we even make it to the kitchen with a slight tug that sends me back into her arms. She holds me close to her as I watch her hand extend out the the red stickered book  _ Infinite Jest _ . A book bigger than the  _ Bible _ , neither of which particularly interest me. As the book comes off the shelf though, I see behind it a small blue box.

“I knew you wouldn’t touch one with a red sticker,” she says softly. “So I hid this here until I knew it was the right moment.”

She retrieves the little box and with her large hand pops the top up to reveal an extremely large diamond. The sides of the ring intricately carved in an antique pattern that complimented the princess cut stone. Along the edging little sapphires decorated the band as the carvings danced around. 

Lexa’s arm releases me and her fingers pluck the ring from the box. My chest is heaving as I take into the beautiful symbol of her commitment to me. Rushes of warmth flowing under my skin as she slides the ring on my finger. It fits perfectly. I don’t know how she came to know my finger size but I’m truly impressed. 

INDENT: I still don’t know how she learned the proper size because she was quite mad at me when I asked her if she had a ring sizer in her vagina? Let’s just say that didn’t go well.  

My lips crash against hers, and I trace the inside of her mouth in a sloppy kiss. I can’t help it though, I mean we just got engaged. We’re engaged, and I want to make love to my fiancee, not go entertain guests in my backyard. 

“Come with me,” I say, and I smile again at the hidden meaning there, as I pull her back towards our bedroom. 

She follows but only for a few steps before she has me in her arms and over her shoulder. My body hits the bed with a little umph, as Lexa crawls on top of me. Her hand finding its place over my ribcage as her tongue dances with mine. 

_ Fuck everyone outside. This is where I need to be.  _

The closeness of our bodies is still not enough. There are far too many barriers between us that I attempt to rectify as I pop the button of her jeans and tug at the zipper. I have no patience for how long it will take me to get her clothes off, so I sneak my hands between the tight fitted material and her skin. 

Her hand comes up and she tugs her pants down just enough to give me better access. I ghost my fingertips over her slit, as her own hand dives into my now somewhat open pants. This is probably the least romantic engagment sex ever, but I don’t care. I don’t care because I want to hear Lexa cry out my name as she body clamps down on the two digits that I have just slid within her. 

Her sex quivers around my touch, and I can’t say I am holding up much better as I feel her hitting that spot that she initially struggled to find within me. She’s playing me like a fiddle inside, as I thrust into her and my palm presses again and again in a steady spanking rhythm against her clit.

Her lips take mine and the kiss is broken between pants, but it doesn’t matter because she falls apart on my fingers with a “Fuck Clarke,” and a “I love you so much.”

It takes me a few moments after she regains her strum to tumble after her, but the galaxy swallows me whole. Sending me though a wormhole of fantastical lights that sparkle around me. 

Yeah, it may not have been the romantic kind of engagement consummation, but it was definitely worth skipping the first few minutes of my party. 

~~~~~

Poppers sounded when we finally make it outside. Across the back fence there is a huge sign reading “Congratulations Griffin!” I am immediately swarmed with faces of my seniors and wrapped in embraces that usually I would deny. I can’t not enjoy it really though. I mean these kids came to fight for me today. They didn’t just stand idly by, but rather they stood with me and fought by my side. 

Several long plastic tables were lining one side of the yard, and I watch as Rexa sneaks up on the table with two paws and snags a couple of hot dogs.  _ That’s my girl _ . 

The entire scene is a little overwhelming but the crowd around me starts to dissipate and the growing teens devour the food at an alarming rate. I am about to make my way to the table when I see Raven coming back towards me, her dark ponytailed hair swinging with each step. She holds out a plate for me that is heaping with food. 

“Vultures,” she grunts, and then adds, “remind me never to have kids.”

I glance over at Anya who is watching Raven carefully. I see a slight smile grace her face, and watch as her eyes meet Lexa’s. Lexa is smiling too because apparently the Woods-Trikru women have found what they really wanted in the Marcus Kane Kru. I wanna chuckle at my inside knowledge, but Raven appears to still be oblivious so I will let her and Anya cross that road when the time comes. 

When Octavia approaches, her eyes immediately follow to my plate, and I realize that I still have the very large stone on my finger. I bite my lip and look up at Lexa. I am not sure if this was how she wanted to announce our engagement, and it seems like we may no longer have a choice. 

Octavia takes a step closer and with a chin held high she meets Lexa’s eyes. Her aqua irises shining as she gets to give this speech. She points to me and says, “That’s my sister. Adoption or no adoption, she’s my sister. She will be the maid of honor in my wedding someday. She’ll be the godparent to my kids.” I’m slightly taken aback at the words falling from her lips, but she doesn’t waver. Doesn’t pause, just continues as though she has been practicing for this day. “I swore a few years ago that I would protect her at all costs, and you came to my meet. You watched me fight. I don’t care if you are ten feet tall, you break her heart and I’ll break your bones.”

Lexa’s hand comes off my lower back, and I’m afraid to look back at her. Wary of what kind of reaction my little sister’s word will have on my fiancee. I don’t need to look back though. I don’t need to even move, because Lexa is coming forward and wrapping the tiny black belt in a tight hug. 

I can’t hear what she is saying to Octavia. I can only tell by the way Octavia is staring at the house that something is being said. But she suddenly smacks at Lexa’s arm, and my big bad Commander is hopping back like a giant smiling goofball.

“I do not fart glitter, you weirdo!” the teen calls, but it just makes Lexa’s laughter echo out against the corn stalks lining the party. 

“Lex, you can’t tell people they fart glitter,” I hear from behind us, and I turn to see my other defenders coming in from the back door. I haven’t seen them since the night we painted Jacky’s room, but Emori and Tris stand hand in hand on the back step with broad matching smiles. 

Tris runs over, wrapping me in a hug and tugging me up off my feet. “Aww our little princess is turning into the warrior we heard so we had to come over and see for ourselves.”

Emori’s eyes wander over the crowd and I watch as her head tilts when they land on Anya. “Well this is unexpected. Good to see you bitch.” She closes the gap to grasp each other’s forearms before pulling into a hug. 

“Had to clean up Cos’ mess,” Anya says, but Raven nears her side, and it’s all that Emori needs to know that there is more to the story for a later date. 

I am so focused on the interaction between the friends that I don’t even notice that Tris has my hand and is holding it up. “Holy shit, she actually did it!”

Emori turns to us and an even large grin spreads across her face. “Damn Commander, you couldn’t even wait until Christmas.”

Lexa stands a little straighter, and says, “I would never have proposed on Christmas. Christmas Eve maybe, but not on a day that people worship a dude breaking in their house and a pagan tree.”

I snort and hit Lexa slighting in the abs. They are so hard that my mind wanders as I think,  _ fuck this party, I am ready to get naked with her. _ For real this time. I can’t just kick everyone out with food still on their plates though.

Frustrated is not even beginning to cover the intense desire I feel rushing under my skin. I reach up and pull Lexa to me. Her lips hitting mine for a less than G-rated kiss, but the cheers around us make me smile into the kiss.  _ God, I love her. _

I feel a hand smacking me on the side, and my arm reaches back to swat away whoever is hitting me. The hits don’t stop though, and I realize the entire crowd has gotten very very quiet. Lexa pulls back, and her eyes scan over the crowd. I don’t look back though. There is no no doubt as to why my party feels like it was just douched by a cold pale of water.

Abigail Griffin stands in the doorway of my tiny house. The doorway she has never stood in before. The house she has never once stepped foot in. 

Her stance is reserved, and I can tell she is just as uncomfortable as everyone else is. I can’t help it, my eyes scan the area behind her. The hope that maybe my baby will be coming out the door behind her. My hopes are not met though, for Abby stands there alone. 

She raises her hand lightly. I don’t know what to do. Abby is never the first to greet me. I am just a person to deal with, not someone that is actually important enough to even earn a greeting. Usually she is just angry at my presence.

Lexa turns and takes in the sight with me. I cast a glance up at her just as she looks down at me. “If you don’t go, Princessa, you’ll never know what she is here for.”

My fingers intertwine with Lexa’s. I don’t know what is going to come from this. The only thing I know is I am not doing this alone. “Come with me,” I say, not really giving her a chance to dispute as I pull her along with me.

Abby shifts on her feet, and I see her body turn. I am just a few feet away, when I hold out my hand, and say, “Mo… Abby, please don’t go.” She turns back to me, now a foot inside the kitchen. Her eyes run over me, and I can’t tell if she is happy I have finally gotten the picture that she is not my mother, or saddened by the understanding that this is where we are now. 

“I just came to speak with you,” she says softly. 

I look her over. Her shoulders which are normally stiff are slouched just enough that I am in unfamiliar territory. Angry Abby, I can handle. Disappointed Abby, even more familiar. But sadden Abby is… new. 

I stop just inside of the house, and my mind searches for the words. Searches for something to say… but nothing comes. Nothing I can say will change everything we have gone through. It won’t change the way I ruined her life. It won’t change the way I dumped my kid on her. It won’t change that I am growing up. It won’t change that when we’re done, she will lose another daughter. And it’s all my fault.

“You have a dedicated following.” Her voice is wavering, but I know she is trying to be the strong person she always was. The person that has always cleaned up my messes, just like when she voted for me today. 

I finally find something, “Thank you for your support.” I don’t know if I am speaking just about today; maybe I think of all the birthdays and Christmases that I had little, and how Jacky was given the world. I had hurt Abby over and over… she had given me up… but something in me feels like she has never really given up. She wasn’t the person that supported me like Lexa or Octavia, but her pressure, her constant disapproval shaped me into who I am. Into moving into this house. Into becoming someone different. Someone better. Someone I’m still wanting for her to be proud of.

So many understandings bubbling, but no time to truly process them. I need to address that she is here. Two years and she has never been here.  _ This is big. _ Carefully, I ask, “You want to talk?”

Abby’s eyes look over Lexa. I feel her warmth just behind me. Her hand still holding mine, but her body just enough behind me that I am forced to be strong on my own. I know Lexa is my support, but this is about me facing Abby. “I was hoping we could speak alone.”

My body moves before I know what is about to happen or what I am about to say. Head shaking to and for, and hand tightening around Lexa’s, I hold up my left hand. The hand where the large diamond stands almost too big. Almost too much for the tiny house that encases us. “We’re getting married… and I want her to be here... Just like you have always been there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience. Sorry it has been a crazy ass week. I have solved the fake Lux problem though. Wish you all well. -Luxi


	38. You're not here to talk about books

**~Lexa~**

Listening to the Octavia’s declaration that she will break my bones puts me a little on the defensive side. I mean this is supposed to be a big deal and she is threatening me. The love in her eyes is undeniable though, and I decide that being irritated will only take the joy out of the moment we are having.

Moving around Clarke, I pull Octavia into a hug. My face is near her head, and quietly, I break the tension. “While I should be scared of you, I will never forget my first thoughts about you. I swore you were adorable but were ready to fart glitter all over me.” 

Her arm breaks free from my hug and I feel the sharp snap burst over my bicep as her fingers slap me. Angry aqua eyes stare up at me in utter disgust as she says, “I do not fart glitter, you weirdo!”

The rumble of laughter escapes my chest, and I can’t contain it. I just let it flow out, as Clarke playfully swats me on the shoulder as I hear another voice behind us telling me in mock seriousness, “Lex, you can’t tell people they fart glitter.” Emori’s slight smile is just enough to make me grateful she got my message. I have missed her over the last week. And yeah Tris too, but where one goes the other follows so… I guess I missed her too. 

They really are adorable together, standing there with holding hands. It’s crazy to think that just two weeks ago Clarke was daring them to fuck against her living room wall. That three weeks ago, I was still just the fucking dick that had tried to assault my now fiancée. The darkness rolls in, but it’s chased away as Tris runs over to my omega and wraps her long arms around her. Her words are sweet as she holds Clarke at arms distance looking her up and down. “Aww our little princess is turning into the warrior we heard so we had to come over and see for ourselves.”

“Well this is unexpected. Good to see you bitch,” Emori says, and I realize she has just noticed Anya with Raven. Their greeting is warm, and I can’t help but remember that they were good friends before Anya was traded for Tris. 

Raven’s arm reaches around Anya, and I watch as they get significantly closer. For a minute, I consider how unbelievably okay with their budding relationship I am. I mean I should be jealous right. I should be upset that my ex-wife is totally smitten with Clarke’s sister. The sister that fucked my omega… ugh. No. 

My thoughts wipe away, as I hear Tris call out, “Holy shit, she actually did it!” 

All of a sudden Clarke’s hand is in the air towards Em, and I watch the smug grin spread over the her face.   “Damn Commander, you couldn’t even wait until Christmas.”

I stand a little prouder, because I would never. Never propose in such a cheesy manner. Holding my head up, I bite back, “I would never have proposed on Christmas. Christmas Eve maybe, but not on a day that people worship a dude breaking in their house and a pagan tree.” Really I don’t think I would have been able to wait, especially after seeing Clarke’s face as she took in the ring. 

_ ~~~~~ _

_ “I knew you wouldn’t touch one with a red sticker. So, I hid this here until I knew it was the right moment.” And fuck I hope it’s the right moment. But the way her eyes glass over, as I pull the tiny Tiffany’s box out from the shelf, makes me sure this is the right moment. The right moment to place my sign of commitment to her.  _

_ I’m proud of my choice. I wanted something that could bind us both together, and when I saw the antiquity of tradition mixed with the oceanic stones there was nothing more perfect. Mixed with the princess cut, I couldn’t help but see my princessa. My little omega wearing that ring.  _

_ I hope she doesn’t notice the way my hands are trembling as I slide the ring on her finger. I couldn’t tell her that the saleswoman looked at me like I was crazy when I put it in my lips to judge the size. The only real measurement I had, and felt it was probably not wise to hold it against my cunt to get an accurate measurement. I couldn’t tell the woman my vagina was the most accurate tool to measure her ring size so I resorted with my mouth which was the second best option.  _

_ As soon as the ring is in place, her lips crash against mine. It’s a hungry kiss that takes us back to the bedroom so fast, I am not even sure if she spoke or if I spoke, but her fingers are in me and I slide into her drenched pussy.  _

_ The wetness of her cunt threatening to send me over the edge just by touching her, but the wet heat surrounding my fingers is heavenly. We match thrust for thrust, panting into each teeth barred sloppy kiss.  _

_ I fell apart first, my body contracting as fireworks with off behind my eyelids. Unable to communicate more than her name falling from my lips as I try to keep up the pressure against her clit. Clarke is nothing but patient and loving as she lets me come down, and regain enough focus to trace the figure eight against her clit, as I press against the spot that I have finally learned. A place that I am grateful for my long fingers to stroke her with each entrance.  _

~~~~~

I pull my blonde into me, pressing my lips into her in a non-school appropriate kiss. I want these fuckers to leave so I can feel her again. So I can take my new dong and bury it into her from behind as I pull her back to my front. As I massage my hands over her beautiful fucking tits, and pinch that perfect clit. Roll it between my finger and thumb until she is begging me to cum. Begging me to hit the vibration at the base that will send her into ecstasy. 

My imaginings are interrupted though. Torn from the image of Clarke tight cunt locking around my dick and screaming for her alpha because fucking Abby walks into our backyard. The tiny pest of a woman I would gladly squash with my giant foot given the chance. 

Clarke is frozen in place except the small hand that was buried in me early. The fingers that fucked me throughly waving to the anti-mother. The tension is everywhere, and tightening every muscle in my body. I fight the urge to stand in front of her and protect her from the hellish witch of the east. 

I place my hand on her hip and pull her in a step back into me. My words meant only for her, as I support her decision because I can feel that she is still searching for that ice bitch’s acceptances, “If you don’t go, Princessa, you’ll never know what she is here for.”

Her fingers wrap around mine and her words shake as she requests, “Come with me.” I am pissed that I can’t even revel in the double meaning behind her words. Instead I follow her dutifully back to the house. I hate that Abby has come and ruined the celebration of the night. I hate her. I hate her with a venom that my inner alpha is roaring. 

But I fight it down. I fight it down, and hold my breath as I follow her.

* * *

 

**~Clarke~**

The walk back into the house is too quiet. Every footstep causing the floor to creak, almost as though my house can’t stand the tension or quiet, so it breaks it with every step. Abby leads us to the living room, and I watch her move to the book case and run her hands over a few titles. 

“I got this one for you,” she almost whispers. The dark binding with red letters sticking out, causes my stomach to drop as I remember the day she came to visit me and gave me the copy of  _ Unwind. _ I read it like water, hoped for some inner message of her missing me, and cried as I wondered if she meant to tell me that she wishes she could have had me unwound.

This is not why she is here. She has never come to my house before, and there is no question that she is not here to reminisce about the books she has given me over the years. “Why are you here?” I ask for the second time. 

Abby turns and her eyes scan over me again. I am not sure what she is looking for, I mean nothing has changed in the last few minutes. “What?” I let out in exasperation, and I realize my inner teenager is coming out in full force. 

“I just… I wanted to go over Jacky’s schedule with you for tomorrow,” she says, and I feel that is a lie, but I’m not going to call her on it. After all, maybe if I just give her this time she’ll leave and I can kick everyone out so I can having Lexa fuck me in every room, over every surface, in every position twice to celebrate. 

I point down the hall, and ask, “Do you want to see her room?” Abby must be worried that I haven’t followed through with the deal thanks to Anya’s lawyer. And a part of me wants to show her that I did what I was supposed to do. 

She nods, and I lead her down the hallway. The trek takes us no time, and I don’t know why but when we enter the room, I tell her, “It’s small but we are looking at getting a house in the near future.”

Abby doesn’t answer, just walks around the room. I hope she likes the color Lexi picked. I hope that she sees I have tried to make my baby’s room special, so that the transition from a castle to a pauper’s house isn’t too much of an overload. 

“She needs to be in bed by seven,” she says as her fingers trail over the books in the small gutters secured to the wall. Every book facing forward so Jacky can see the cover. I want to make sure my baby learns to love to read. Just like Abby taught me to love to read with our bedtime stories. 

Holding up a copy of  _ Do Princesses Wear Hiking Boots?, _ she says, “This is one of her favorite, and she has most of the words memorized so if you help her follow along it will help her build her sight vocabulary.”

I nod, because this information isn’t new. I mean after all I am an English teacher, and Developmental Reading was a required class for my teaching degree. “I will,” I say, figuring snark would not help us. 

“She needs to eat more than egos and mac n’ cheese. Also try to avoid the Campbell’s soup, it has so much salt in it,” and I smile. I smile because she used to get so frustrated at coming home and seeing me and Dad at the dining room table with chicken noodle soup instead of whatever casserole she had left for us to heat up. 

I gesture to Lexa and say, “Lex cooks. You don’t have to worry about her eating vegetables. I promise not even to make faces at the poor baby trees she will surely put on the plate.”

Shaking her head, I watch a rare smile grace Abby’s face, “Your father ruined your dietary habits when I worked nights.”

“Well Marcus didn’t help much since the man couldn’t cook worth shit,” it falls out before I can stop it. And once it’s out, there is no turning back from it. No pretending that she didn’t give me up.

Her hand is putting the book back, and she sighs. It takes a moment or even a fucking year for her to speak again, “She’s usually up at six, and she needs to eat before she brushes her teeth.”

Lexa’s voice breaks in then, and I am slightly startled. Her hand closing over my shoulder, as she says, “Tomorrow we were actually going to head up to Prescott. Goldwater Lake has beautiful camp grounds, and I just thought that it would be nice to get away from the house and spend sometime together as a family.”

Her eyes are on me, and she asks, “If that’s okay? Em brought over the huge two room tent, and I just wanted us all to… I don’t know do something that was not awkward and sleepover like. Like going on a new adventure together.”

Lexa thinking about the three of us as a family is amazing. Tingles washing over my body, encompassed with just the warmth of her energy. “That would be nice. I think she will like that.”

“She’s never been camping,” Abby interjects, and when I look at her, I feel like she is lost. Lost like when she looked at me sitting across from the mediation table, before she signed the papers. 

I stand a little straighter, as I say, “Dad used to take us camping all the time. It’s a Griffin tradition that she needs to learn, and it’s amazing that Lexa has it already planned.”

Her shoulders slump a little, and I know it’s a low blow. Well, another low blow. But I want her to know that I will keep up with what my dad taught me. I’m not the same person that she gave up on. 

Lexa is softer though, as she says, “You’re not going to just lose her, Dr. Griffin. Not if you help us.” Suddenly everything is crashing, waves beating over me. Threatening to pull me under, because I didn’t get it. I didn’t get what Abby could possibly want with me, or even coming here. But she was making a step to meet me halfway and I’m just biting back at her. A warning chihuahua threatening her to back the fuck off, when she wants to be here. 

“I’m sorry,” I say, because I am not even sure what else to say. 

Abby’s brown eyes raise, the motherly look that I had met the night she came back after dropping me off at Kane’s place for my new life. They were one in the same, and I realize that I had never considered how hard it was for her to sign away her rights. How hard it had been to drop me off. And now I was asking her to do it again. 

She turns from us, and I see her chest heaving a little. I take a step but the floorboards squeak under me. At least she doesn’t have to worry about us needing a security system. She holds up her hand, which stops me in my tracks. 

“It wasn’t what I wanted,” she says, and then she turns. Her eyes a mixture of pain and anger. “I never wanted to lose you. Ever. I never wanted to admit that I wasn’t even your biological mother, but you hated me so much, and then you hated me even more.”

Her words were flowing as though the dam within has broken at last. As though the never ending stream of sadness and anger and hurt would never cease. She could power the electric grid of the greater Phoenix area if she continues in such a manner.

“I wanted you to be safe, and I was away, and you almost burned the house down, Clarke,” she growls. Her hands in the air. “You wouldn’t listen to anything anyone said, but if it came out of my mouth it was like a calling for you to do the opposite.”

I stand still. Lexa’s hand tightening on my waist, where she is trying to pull me back. I can’t move though, my feet have dug roots through the floorboards, and I feel myself shrinking. Shrinking away. 

She stops though. Abby stops and turns to face me. Her brown eyes boring into my soul, as she says, “And you brought me that baby. You handed me that baby, and I hoped… I prayed even that she would bring you back to us. But you just turned away. Turned away from her and I. Showed up to her first birthday high as a fucking kite and all I could smell was alcohol…”

Her words taper off, and she folds her arms around herself. Holding herself, and probably trying to comfort herself. For as alone as I always thought I was, she had truly been alone. I left her when Dad died. I left her to deal with the consequences of all the crap I pulled off, the screaming, the breaking, the almost punching...I left her to lose myself and then I came back only to leave her with an infant. I left her alone and now… now I’m forcing her to be alone again.

Her tears break, as trail after trail fall from her eyes. Words choking to come out, “I treated you… I was so angry, because… I thought that you were hurting yourself again.” She coughs, but doesn’t slow down. “I thought she was going to push you into a grave alongside your father.”

I swallow this truth, and I reach out to hug her. I reach out to feel her not comfort me, but to show her I’m still here. “I’m sorry,” I whisper into her ear, and she shakes her head against me.

“I was so cruel, Clarke,” she admits.

I hug her tighter, and I feel her arms wrap just as tightly around me. Under my arm and around my back. Fully encompassing me, just as Dad used to. “I’m not going to runaway with her,” I tell her. 

She’s nodding, and whispering back, “You have always been my daughter, Clarke. I have loved you since the moment I first held you in my arms.” She rocks us ever so slightly, as she tells me the story of becoming my mom. “You were just three months old. She left a week after you were born, and I met your father at your check up. Your pudgy little face, it was just like Jacky’s. A child born of spit and fire, and you screamed and screamed in your car seat… And I picked you up. I picked you up, and you stopped crying and I knew then that I was meant to be your mother.”

My eyes are clenched shut, but it doesn’t stop the way her words are drawing out my tears. Hearing that she loved me all this time. That she never meant it when she said I wasn’t hers. It doesn’t make it okay, but it makes the time it took me to rise feel worth it. 

I try to explain, but I’m not sure it makes sense. I say through split breaths and choked tears, “The time it took me to hit my abyss… to fall so completely down a fucking mountain… I needed to. Mom, you know I have always had to learn the hard way. Like that time you told me not to climb the tree in the backyard and I broke my arm. That was like falling off the mountain.” I pull back so I can see her. So I look into her eyes, as I reach a new point in my journey. 

The point of atonement, “Because I had to fall, and I had to crawl across the rock filled valley. I had to trip and stumble the whole way up, but I made it here. I made it here because you pushed me to be better. Because Marcus and Raven and John, held my hands when I needed stability. And when I got close to the top, Lexa was there. Lexa was there to pull me the rest of the way up.”

I look back at Lexa, standing carefully nearby. Trying to give us this moment, but also trying to make certain that I am supported. “She’s the perfect person for me, Mom. She’s the person to walk this with me. And I know that we can make it. I know that we can be good parents to Jacky. I know.. because we’ll have you… and Marcus and Raven and John there to help us.”

My mom, wow I’m not sure I ever thought I would even be able to think those words again, but I can… My mom holds me, and licks her lips of salty tears and clear mucus that has flowed from her nose, and says, “Clarke, you have redefined what family means. And you have created one… thank you for letting me be a part of it.”


	39. Becoming a Parent

**~Lexa~**

Reaching over, I turn down the sound to ease the bass pounding into our chests even on just a level six. Glancing in the rear, I see the little muffin passed out on her seat, thumb in her mouth subconsciously rubbing a corner her favorite blanket between her tiny fingers and onto her face. I smile at the sight because her head rest at an awkward angle, half resting on her shoulder, half hanging in the air. She looks so much like Clarke. 

Clarke’s hand snakes on my thigh, squeezing gently and when I turn to look at her, I notice how her body is twisted so that she’s looking at Jacky too with an awe that reflects my own. With one hand on the wheel of Emori’s Escalade, and the other grabbing onto the one on my thigh, I stretch slightly sideways, head keeping to the road till the last second; I steal a quick kiss on Clarke’s smiling lips. With another glance in the rear mirror, I feel contentment within, settle back comfortably on my seat, and bring Clarke’s hand to my lips as I entwine our fingers. 

With trees passing by, I consider the image of this family traveling down the road into some unknown future. Even the unknown doesn’t scare me, because truthfully, I never thought I could be this happy. Never thought that I could find happiness in something or someone that wasn’t basketball related. But then there was Clarke, and through twisted turns of fate or destiny or… just down right meant to be, I found her. Well, she found me, but still… Just being here on the road with my two favorite people, makes me consider that there are still so many steps I want to take with not only Clarke, but Jacky too.

A small town passes by, and I reduce my speed. I don’t want Jacky to go back to Abby with a tale of me getting a speeding ticket. As I look over the small run down town, I see the faded colors of the buildings. Peeling paint from the billboard that has clearly seen it’s fair share of Arizona summers. I realize though that everything has color. Even the faintest shades of sunbleached pinks and greens, the dingy browns, are all vibrant and begging for attention. 

And… I consider that this is what happiness brings. Attention to the life that is everywhere around, and I feel this sudden excitement bouncing in my chest and pumping in my veins to see what the trees of the forest look like. To see as the water ripples a little more, or the mirror is just a little little brighter.

“I can’t wait to see the lake,” my lips say, but my eyes are still trying to piece together the exact shade of the lavender stalks sticking up from the green shrubs that line the center of the highway. 

Clarke’s fingers squeeze a little, and then pat against my jeans. Her eyes cast back to where Jack-Jack is out cold, before she says, “Thank you.”

I turn my head to give her a smile she gives back before settling back on the road. I see a sign announcing an exit to get to the ghostlike town. I sigh as I had planned on making the road trip in one go to arrive at the lake before the sun becomes too harsh to settle. But once on the road, and only then, did I notice that Emori lent me her car with a tank half empty. I should have remembered when I asked her if I could borrow her family friendly car that Emori is the kind of person who only fills the tank when the light appears signalling she’s about to run out. But I had so much to check on my mental list that it completely slipped my mind. I mean between the tent, sleeping bags, torch lights, bug sprays, food, Jacky and all; it’s a wonder I didn’t forget anything else this morning. Wait, now that I think of it, did I pack Jack’s present? I’m going through everything that happened since we groggily woke up at 5am to picking Jacky at Abby’s at 7.30am. Okay, yeah, Clarke put it in her oversized backpack.

I’m so lost in my mind that I almost miss the exit to the town in the middle of nowhere. There is no way I’m making a u-turn in the middle of an highway, even a deserted one and certainly not with  _ our _ kid in the backseat.

“Where are we going? I thought we still had about an hour to go?” Clarke asks, sitting a little straighter, looking out the window as I’m already half between lanes, and veering off towards the single exit lane that curves under the highway.

“We need to make a pit stop at the gas station. I won’t have enough to get us all the way to the lake,” I inform her. Not that I would complain being stranded in the middle of nowhere with her but I’m not really much the outdoor type. I’m no Bear Grylls, and while spending unlimited amounts of time with my princessa is appealing, doing it wild style with Jacky is not my idea of good parenting. 

I peek over to gauge her reaction, concerning the unplanned stop. She must notice that I am looking for affirmation because Clarke nods, her head relaxing back into the seat. Her body so different from when we first met. Frigid posture and automatic smiles, replaced with fluid movements and warm toothy grins. 

“I hope they got decent coffee,” is all she mumbles and I laugh because I know that Clarke doesn’t like coffee when she’s not the one making it or when it doesn’t come in a venti size with a green straw. She must be really needing it for even thinking of getting one here. She swats me playfully because she knows why I’m laughing.

I park at one of the two pumps and cut the engine. And right on cue, Jacky begins to stir. I have to remember how car rides make kids sleep. I feel it could be usefull information for later.

“Well at least we won’t have to stop twice.” Clarke says as she unbuckles her seat belt before checking on Jacky. I unbuckle mine as I look at the rundown diner across the street before twisting my body towards Jacky. Clarke is strewn across the gap between the front and the back seat, reaching out to Jacky to softly finger comb the nest the little girl created with her hair in her sleep. She looks around in a sleepy state, thumb still in her mouth and I smile again because barely awake Jacky is just too cute. I don’t think I could ever not smile looking at her.

“Hey baby girl,” and Clarke’s interaction with this mini version of herself demands attention. Despite knowing her struggles, her doubts and worries, I can’t help but think she was made to be a mother, with her soothing voice and caring gestures.

I have a hard time tearing myself away from them both, but the tank won’t fill itself. 

Opening the door and stepping out of the car, some of my joints crack as I pull my arms up to extend them. Physically, I’m stiff. Years of ball have taken its toll on my body, and truthfully, cars are not comfortable for tall people. 

Turning to face the car, I bend forward to pass my head through the frame with my right forearm leaning on the roof. “Alright I’ll be quick,” I provide as an explanation.

I’m about to move when I hear a small whine from Jacky. Abby told us she didn’t sleep well because she was too excited and could be a bit grumpy when she wakes. Like mother like daughter it seems. I look back inside the car at Clarke then at Jacky. Yep, here’s the grumpy face, if the creased brow is anything to go by.

“I’ll go take care of the coffee run with Jack. Did you want anything?” Clarke is out the passenger door and by my side as I close mine and open Jacky’s. I watch her fumble with the belts that I will have to figure out soon enough.

“Just water,” I request. I lean my shoulder on the car as Clarke picks up the child who doesn’t look like a tiny little person when she snuggles in her mother’s arms and settles a little head of curls into the nook of Clarke’s neck. The blanket is still strongly trapped in her tiny hand, dangling over Clarke’s chest. 

I can’t resist this sight, or the opportunity. I take a step, snake an arm around Clarke’s waist, cup the cheek on the side that isn’t currently taken by Jacky and brush my lips to Clarke’s. I separate just enough to rest my forehead on hers and look down at the tiny being that has grasped my shirt when I came in contact with them both. I look at her and she gives me a small shy smile that I return before deposing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Let’s meet back at the car in 10.” 

I watch my fiancee treat the street like a busy intersection, despite the lack of any other activity than them. With the kid balanced on one hip, Clarke disappears into the small beaten up diner. Once I know she is safe inside, I head into the gas station that serves as an auto shop, 7/11, and tourist desk.

_ Because there are seriously things to tour around here. Please.   _

Apart from the dirt and cacti, I don’t see the appeal of the town, if it even can be called that. I don’t linger on the mess made by this multi-serving establishment and walk straight to the counter where a bored middle aged man, hand propping up his face, half-asleep in front of a small television with reruns of a cowboy show.

“Excuse me,” I say, trying not to startle the man. His eyes flutter up, and he lets out a deep breath. No smile, not gratitude for me stopping at this shit hole. I put two twenties on the counter and I see him perk up at the sight of money. Then, he truly looks at me and I see him appraising me up and down with a sly glint in his eyes. Damn, it had to be a perv. How cliché. I try to ignore him as he miserably puffs his chest, standing from the chair he was slumped on.

“I just need gas from pump one.” 

He is about to open his mouth surely to offer some kind of pretend chivalry at helping me out as his eyes don’t even look at my face but a bit more south. I cross my arms to cut the line of sight and quickly speak before the disgusting little man annoys me further, “I’ll get it myself, then we’ll be on our way. Good day.” I could have just left it there without the last part but I wanted to be the better person here; even though, I feel dirty just by the way his eyes ogled me, and I know as I turn around that his eyes are still on me. It makes me step quicker towards the entrance. 

I shrug a shiver of disgust as I cross back into the cool outside air, not hesitating as I make my way directly to the pump. I don’t look back, even though I hear his footsteps heading to the door. I don’t need to know he is still looking at me. I would rather pretend he is still focused back on his television.

I put the nozzle in the tank and click handle to hold the trigger, letting the pump do its job, as I relax against the trunk of the car, looking across the road. 

I can make out the golden halo of my love at the cash register, through the streaked window. I am one lucky mother fucker.  _ Ha! I am a mother fucker… literally. _

The halo disappears, and the nozzle clicks off. Moving back to the side of the car, I look it over. We need a car like this… well, maybe not this big, but still. Clarke’s car is a piece of shit, and she needs something that Jacky will fit in safely. 

My mind wanders to my baby that Emori is probably running into the ground this weekend. It doesn’t have a backseat, and I know that there is a chance, I am going to have to give her up. I hate that idea though. I mean I bought that car with my signing bonus. It was the first thing I really bought for myself, and I felt so accomplished. 

Clicking the trigger down again, I glance at the numbers on the pump. I really don’t want to have to go back in to get change. However, I am in no such luck. The tank only took $34.28. 

_ Fuck you, universe.  _

I put the nozzle back in, and trudge back inside the store where the man is disappearing back behind the counter. 

“Lovely day isn’t it beautiful,” he says, retrieving my change. I feel the rage flooding through my veins. Fisting my hands, I fight back the urge to pull his skeezy ass up and over that fucking counter. 

He holds my cash out, and the only way for me to get it from him is to take it from his hand. Which frankly, I do not feel any desire to do. Because men are gross and this dude probably hasn’t washed his hands in years. 

“You know what, keep it,” I hiss, and turn to leave. But I can’t. I can’t leave with him knowing that he got under my skin and keeping my money. 

Turning around abruptly, I rip the change from his hand, and growl, “If I didn’t have my fucking kid with me, I would rip your fucking eyes out for thinking you have the right to look at me.”

And I leave. I mean there is not much else I can do, so I stomp out of the store and get into the car. I am not waiting here. No fucking way, so the car is on and I pull across the street to the diner. Dust flying and tires hissing. 

As I park, I realize that I need a breather. I am clearly too irritated, and I can’t go into the diner in that state though, Clarke would run out to punch him if she saw me like that.

After several deep breaths, I glance to the dashboard clock. It’s been way more than ten minutes, so I get my shit together, and get out of the car. Making my way to the entrance, I smile at the woman in the pale yellow jumper like dress. I feel like after so many years, diners need to come up with a new dress code.

Looking around, there is no sign of Clarke or Jacky. “Excuse me, did you see a blonde and her look-a-like in here. Probably whining about needing coffee.”

The blonde smiles, and points to a doorway with a old fashioned sign reading restroom in print. I glance down at her name tag, and answer, “Thank you, Niylah.”

I follow the counter, passing by the worn white and yellow booths on one side, and the matching swivel chairs on the other side that line the wooden eating area. As I turn the small corner, I hear the high pitched child’s voice cry out, “You’re not doing it like Gamma! It’s not right!” The words hurt me and I know they must be breaking Clarke if she feels like she is failing. 

I enter the bathroom to see Clarke kneeling by the toilet in one of the stalls trying to layer toilet paper over the seat, and Jacky is standing behind her with her arms crossed over her tiny chest glaring at the potty as though it’s the most offensive thing she has ever seen. 

“Jack-Jack, the seat is completely covered. You can sit down and be safe,” Clarke’s tone is more pleading than parental, and I can tell just by the look on her face that she is struggling to keep it together. 

Jacky’s little finger comes out, and she said, “Gamma always uses three layers. She says I can’t sit on the potty without three layers or I will get sick.”

My eyes roll. I have fucked on enough toilets to know that she is not going to get sick through only two layers of toilet paper. I clear my throat though, and make my presence known. The little girl looks up at me, her head bending back to see all the way up. 

I point at the toilet, and ask, “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

She nods once, eyes wide. I look down, and state, “Then go. Stop making things difficult for your mother.” 

Jacky glances at the toilet and then back at me. She opens her mouth and starts to speak, but I hold up my hand, and her little mouth closes quickly. “If you really need to go then go. No buts or conversation about toilet paper layers. You will be fine.”

Jacky’s head falls and she walks into the stall, pushing Clarke until she is outside, before starting to close the door. She stops when just her little head is visible, and I see her looking at me, and then her mom. Huge blue eyes taking us in. Measuring us for the parents we are going to be, and I understand that I have become the enforcer.

“Do you need help with anything else?” I ask as Clarke pulls herself up to her feet and turns to the mirror where the sink is. With a tiny pouty lip, the little girl shakes her head and closes the door. 

Turning to Clarke, I walk up behind her and put my arms around her waist. My lips just beyond her ear, as I whisper, “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head, and wipes the tears from under eyes before they have a chance to fall. “I should have been there. This whole time so that we don’t have to do shit like this,” she whispers. 

Jacky is humming in the stall and the sound of her relieving herself is good in the sense that at least she is doing what she is supposed to do. 

I hug my princess tighter, and press a kiss to her temple. “It’s an adjustment for us all, so there will be moments that are hard, Klark. But we are going to get through this.”

“She listens to you,” she states with nothing but sadness.

I chuckle a little though, as I tell her, “It’s just cause I’m a giant.”

The toilet flushes and the door creaks open, as Jacky comes out with her pants still open. She points at the zipper, and says, “Momma, it’s stuck.”

Clarke turns around and leans down to take the little zipper in her fingers. As she tugs, Jacky looks me over again. I raise an eyebrow at her, and mouth the words, “Say sorry.”

Her lips purse and she looks at her mom. I watch as her eyes squint and all of a sudden tiny hands reach out and take Clarke’s cheeks, drawing the mother’s eyes to her daughter. “I’s sorry Momma.”

Clarke looks at her and then back up at me. I shrug, and Clarke’s eyes turn back to Jacky. “It’s okay, Jacky.” She glides up the zipper on the tiny jeans, and snapping the button. “All better, bug.”

Jacky nods eagerly, and she moves passed Clarke and points to the sink. “Up.”

I raise another brow at her, and she tries again, “Up, Leck-sah Try-kru.”

“One more time, Jacky,” I say, needing her to learn that demands are not going to get her anywhere. 

“Please, up, Lek-sah,” and I reach down wrapping an arm around Jacky’s hips. I lift her easily, holding her up to the sink on a knee under of her little butt. 

She struggles with the water, and I take in how tiny she really is. I mean, I thought five year olds were a little bigger than this, but what do I know. I don’t know shit about kids that’s for sure. 

~~~~~

Getting out of the bathroom takes far more time than I would have liked. When I did leave, Jacky had managed to douche the front of my T-shirt with sudsy water. We finally did finish up, and Clarke managed to get her cheap coffee and a juice for the kid, which she spilt on herself. Thus taking us back to the bathroom to replace her shirt, and wash away the stickiness. 

Needless to say a ten minute stop was forty-five minutes of ridiculousness, but we finally make it back on the road to continue the remaining hour of the trip. 

Clarke’s eyes scan the view as we pass, and I reach over to take her hand. She smiles, wrapping her fingers with mine. With a sorta mumble, she says, “Thanks, Lexi.”

I smile, not sure what really there is to say. So I don’t. I just enjoy the music playing as Jacky sings off key in the back seat, and Clarke taps her foot. Occasionally mouthing the words. 

I can’t deny that I could get use to us doing stuff like this. Like road trips and stuff. I hadn’t told Clarke that I have never been camping before. Not wanting to add to her stress, but the excitement building is undeniable. 

> I wish we would have done more travelling. But this was our only trip. I feel like everything I initially planned on happening just got wrapped up in life. But it will still be our first trip, and who knows maybe someday we’ll get to do more. I mean I still wanna show my kids the Grand Canyon. 

~~~~~

Getting everything out of the car is more of a chore than I anticipated. Primarily because Clarke was chasing the little one running between trees claiming to be a warrior on a hunt. While it was cute, and I snagged several photos, it became slightly annoying that I was left to set everything up. 

This had not been an expectation. I don’t know why I thought Jacky would want to help put together a tent. Hell, I am not even sure that I want to put together a tent. There were snappy parts and the instructions looked too simple to be real. Like the Ikea pictures for furniture that never really work the way they show they will. 

Clarke comes up with a bottle of water that she puts into my hand as she stares down at the tent before looking back at me. I can tell she is really trying hard to hide her smile. Especially, as she says, “You know they just pop together, right.”

I look down with narrow eyes, and hold the paper instructions up to her. “I can read, Princess. But it just seems too easy.”

Scrutinizing the instructions again, I consider that maybe I am going about this all wrong. But I hear a  _ pop! _ , and then another. Looking up, I see Clarke moving around the tent, snapping poles into place like it’s the most common sense thing she could imagine. 

The grey and yellow dome begins to take shape, as I still stand there with my mouth open and brow clenched. This is my job… well, it was job until blondie know-it-all came up and took over. 

The tent is put together, and Clarke is unzipping it. She pokes her head inside, and then glances back at me. “Lex, I thought you said it was a two room tent.”

I look down at the paper in my hand and then up at the tent realizing the problem, “I… Em said…” I throw the paper down in frustration. “I’m sorry, she said it was enough for us all.” 

But suddenly there is a loud battle cry from behind me, and I turn to see Jacky with dirt smeared over her face like war paint, and two giant handfuls of fallen leaves. With a broad grin, she throws the leaves over her head and dances in the rain of dead foliage. “SLEEP OVER!”

And I look around for the nearest bathroom. I mean there has to be a bathroom, because there is no way I am sleeping next to the warrior princess of decaying organic matter.

I point at Clarke, and say, “You will clean your offspring before she sleeps with us.”

But Clarke just giggles, picking up a dirt clod and tossing it into the air. I know what she is thinking. But she wouldn’t. No, she knows better. But the glint in her eyes tells me that in spite of her intelligence she is about to do something stupid.

So I run to the dirt princess and pick her up. Using the tiny girl as shield that is squealing wildly. I hide behind the child, and say, “You wouldn’t hurt your only child, Klark!”

But Clarke just laughs and I realize my mistake. That I had hidden my face in the girl’s blonde hair, thus missing that my Omega moved quickly behind me. But I can’t turn fast enough as the lump strikes me in the ass. 

Turning to her, I point with the kid tucked sideways under my arm, “You have started a war you don’t know how to finish!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, Low here. I’m speaking for the both of us when I say that 3.07 shook us a great deal but we feel the need to keep writing our stories, maybe even more now. Lux and I came up with a 100 chapters plan, so hopefully you’re in with us and Lexa fucking Trikru for the long run. There will be angst and hurt and tears and pain, but we promise to be better than the troopes. Yes, Lux loves cliffhangers; and yes, most of the times you call her satan when you should be talking to me. Not the point though. Just know we promise we will do right by you. We will stay true to our characters and honor them, the same way they have honored us by helping us create a world for you all. Thank you for every kudo and comment. You have no idea how excited Luxi gets when she reads them, to the point that she sends me photos even though, I get the notifications too. Look forward to hearing from you all.  
> -Lowiiie
> 
> (So, really Low, wrote the first four sentences of this note and then I went in and changed a lot of what she had to say. HA HA!!! -Luxi)
> 
> But, yeah it’s all true. Even the photo part!-Low


	40. Will you marry me?

**~Clarke~**

Trees cast shifting spheres of light across the gravel pathway, as Jacky and I trail a few steps behind Lexa’s downturned head, buried in the map. Trekking over the path as we try to make our way from our campsite towards the bathrooms that Lexa had found on the map. They didn't look too far away, but 

“Babe, are you sure you know where we are going?” I ask seeing Jacky stop to pick up a burnt heart shaped stone and hold it up to me with pride. I smile at her, and nod for her to put it in her pocket, which she does with a little struggle against the tiny jeans.   

“Yes, Klark. I can read a damn map,” the alpha wannabe snaps back at me. However, I can tell she is fucking clueless, because we seriously already passed this damn split tree twice. She has us walking in circles, but every time I suggested we ask for directions, I earned a frustrated bite back that she could do this.

> Things I learned during our overly long trek is that Lexa does not know how to read a map, Lexa does not like asking for directions, and that everywhere we go someone knows Lexa and wants a photo opportunity. 

Thus far, we have stopped for three separate photos, and turned around twice on the winding pathway.

“Lex,” I say, as I catch Jacky by the arm before she falls face first in the dirt under her tired little feet. But Lexa doesn’t answer me, she just smiles proudly as she points to the weather beaten trailer with rusted sign reading ‘Showers’. 

I shift the two backpacks on my arms, one for Jacky and one with my shower stuff, while Lexa has her own clean clothes tucked under her arm. We are about to cross the tiny road separating the camp grounds from the wooden supply store that is connected to the shower trailer. 

Lexa is looking back and forth across the road, but I realize in spite of all the strangers snapping photos of Lexa, we have yet to take a family photo. I halt the two grumpy faces that are both frustrated and on the verge of angry.

Holding up my phone and waving it lightly, I give Lexa my best begging look. The one she never says no to, and ask, “Can we take a dirt filled photo too?”

Lexa looks down and a small smirk plays at the corners of her lips, as her head drops into a simple nod. Reaching over she takes my phone in her long arms, and then swoops Jacky up in the other. I wrap my arms around her middle and lean my face into her chest, as she holds the phone up over my shoulders and I hear the tell tale click of the camera shutter, that really doesn’t exist on the phone but the program still adds it for historical value. 

With the photo out of the way, we make our way over to the trailer and stand outside of the several stalls. Opening one door, I take in the tiny space, and look back at Lexa whose eyes go wide, and is shaking her head.

“Downfall of being a giant,” she mumbles and makes her way to a separate stall, but I shake my head.

“It’s okay, babe, we’ll make it work.” I mean the showers are five bucks apiece for three fucking minutes! I know if I let Lexa go alone, she will seriously spend a half hour and sixty dollars trying to wash her fucking hair. I know money doesn’t mean shit to her, but old habits die hard and that is just unnecessary, especially since she is just going to get dirty again if Jacky has any say in it. 

I stand outside pulling out Jacky’s clean clothes and soap. Taking the jug of water from my pack, I tell Jacky, “Flip your head, Baby.” Jacky’s face looks confused, as does Lexa. “We’re going to get your hair wet and put in your shampoo before we turn on the shower, because you don’t get a lot of water.”

Jacky bends over, and I pour the water, until her hair is wet. I hold it in a knot, as I guide her back up and put some shampoo into my hand before I start massaging it into her hair. Rubbing her scalp with my fingertips carefully avoiding getting into her eyes.

Glancing back, I see Lexa leaning against the railing playing on her phone. “You too, Lexi,” I instruct, pushing the jug towards her with one of my sud covered hands. 

Lexa looks down at the water, and then back at me in disbelief. But I shake my head, and use my best mom voice, “You are not spending an hour in this shower. So get the shampoo in your hair.”

She groans, but leans down and picks up the jug. Flipping her head forward, as mountains of curls trail downward. I have to catch my breath a little at how beautiful her hair really is, and I know it’s important to her. I feel kinda like a bitch for trying to regulate her water usage, but I mean… we’re camping. 

Jacky is prepped, so I take her into the shower stall and start stripping her clothes from her, before I add the quarters to the machine.

Once the water is flowing and I test that it is at least somewhat warm, I guide her in behind the curtain and start washing the suds from her hair. She leans her head back and allows me to treat her like a baby. I am not sure if Abby still does this for her, but I know she washed my hair usually when I was five, so I don’t doubt that she is still managing this aspect of hygiene. 

As I help Jacky, I wonder if I am doing the right thing. If taking her from Abby is really the right move. Swallowing my questions, I give JackJack a washcloth with soap on it, telling her, “Scrub your arms and legs. I’m going to help Lexa.”

Jacky looks up at me with the cloth in her hand, and asks, “Is Lexa my new mommy?”

The question takes me aback. I am not sure how to answer her. Is Lexa replacing me as Jacky’s mom? Like how does that work? Are we both moms? Or will I always just be a sideline mom, while other women step in and help my child grow up?

Unsure what to say, I answer, “Let’s talk about that later, okay?”

She nods, and starts running the cloth chaotically over her arms and then with two hands scrubs her belly. It’s cute to watch her trying to figure it out. But I hear Lexa whining outside. 

“Fuck… it’s fucking cold!” And then, “God damn it!”

Closing the shower curtain, I prop open the door to the stall so I can hear Jacky. I take in Lexa’s sopping wet head, covered in thick suds, that are running down her face. Her face with her eyes clenched shut tightly as she is trying to find the jug of water. 

“Babe?”

“I got fucking soap in my eyes!” She cries out, and her breath is ragged as she continues to search for the water. Quickly I grab the jug and help her lean back to rinse the soap from her eyes. She allows me to help her, but when she finally opens her eyes, her glare is slightly frightening. The anger buried there. 

“I got you,” I try to tell her, but she snaps at me. 

“This was fucking stupid. Why couldn’t I just take a fucking shower?!” 

My head falls. I don’t know really, and I should have known this would upset her. I try, but my words fail, “I… just… this is how my dad taught me.” It’s all I got, but my attention is pulled as Jacky’s tiny voice calls from behind me. 

Through chattering teeth, my little girl says, “Momma… cold.”

I grab the towel quickly and turn back to where Jacky is shivering in the cold mountain air. Wrapping her up, I pat her dry, scrubbing her hair with the towel to dry it as best as I can. “It’s okay, JackJack. All better now?”

Her little head nods, and I think she may have picked this up from Lexa. The silent communication. I pick up my little five year old, and move out of the way, and point to the stall, while looking at the still grumpy Lexa. “In.”

With a huff of annoyance, she gets in the stall slamming the door behind her. I wait outside with Jacky curled up in my arms until I hear the water start and the curtain shut. 

I open the door again. Setting Jacky down, and turning to grab the bag. But I am not fast enough, because all of a sudden, I hear Lexa cry out, “What the fuck?!”

As I turn around, I see Jacky peeking her head behind the curtain, and her little words saying, “You are pretty, Lexa.”

_ Oh my god! Oh my god! _

“CLARKE!!!” 

I quickly reach over and grab Jacky’s arm. Pulling her back a few steps and catching her as she trips over the towel. Looking down at my startled girl, I say, “Jack, you have to respect people’s privacy.”

Her hand comes up, and touches my face. “Sorry, Momma. I just wanted to see if she had a penis. Laurie’s daddy has a penis, and I didn’t know if Lexa would have one.”

“WHAT?!” Comes from behind the curtain, just as the water turns off. I quickly push quarters into the machine and push in the little metal handle to deposit the coins. The water turns back on, and I swallow the reality that that was the end of our quarters and I would be taking a cold water, washcloth bath in a few minutes. 

Even with the quarters in and the water running, Lexa’s head is poking out from behind the curtain glaring at my daughter, “You thought I’m a dude?”

Pulling Jacky’s clothes from the bag, I quickly start helping her pull on the warmer garments. Her pants are easy, as she uses me to balance and steps into them one leg at a time. As she is stepping in, I look up at Lexa and tell her, “You’re wasting water.” Her head disappears but not before a displeased grunt. 

Once I have Jacky’s shirt tugged over her head, and I am starting to pull the little Phoenix Mercury sweatshirt on, I try to explain, “Baby, Lexa is like me and you. She is a girl, like you and I are, which means-” 

“No penis.” Jacky says nodding as her head comes through the tiny sweatshirt hole. 

“NO PENIS!” Lexa echoes from behind the curtain. I grab the other towel from my bag, as I look over Lexa’s clothes and realize she didn’t bring one. 

I hold it next to the curtain as I hear the water shut off, and Lexa groan again, “Here.” It’s quickly swiped from my hand, and I just shake my head wondering how Lexa managed to get so pissy so quickly. Pushing all of Jacky’s dirty clothes into a plastic shopping bag, I then tie them up and put them into her backpack, before handing the bag to Jacky, and ushering her outside. 

“Wait here for just a second sweetie,” I tell her, before ducking back into the stall and throwing open the curtian to see a startled Lexa ducking her head in the tiny space, as she tries to dry herself off. In a low hiss, I snap at her this time, “Can you please stop saying fuck every goddamn sentence?”

Her eyes widen, and she glances over her shoulder, before she hangs her head a little. With a deep inhale, she expels the words quietly, “I’m sorry.”

I don’t wait for more. Leaving her in the stall, while I return outside to where Jacky is still standing with our stuff. She is watching several other children that look about her age, playing around the entrance to the small store. She must sense my presence because she stands up straighter and watches me take the three steps towards her. 

“You okay, baby?”

She nods, and her eyes glance over to where the other kids are. When she looks back, I can see that she wants to go play but something else is there. Something I can’t figure out. Quietly she says, “I know it’s our special time, but can I go play, Momma?”  

Nodding, I answer, “Just stay where I can see you.”

She smiles and walks carefully from the platform of the trailer, over to where the other kids are playing. She doesn’t join them right away, just walks over and watches them play. Leaning against the wall nearby where they are shooting the foam tipped arrows from tiny bows. One falls at her feet, and she squats down to pick it up, just as another kid runs over. The little boy takes the arrow from her, and they seem to chat for a minute, before he takes her hand and pulls her into the group. Handing her his bow, and showing her how to aim it. 

As I watch her play, I notice that every few seconds she is looking up, checking to see if I am still there. It makes me think about all the times that we had our visits, and how she wouldn’t leave the same room as me. Like she was afraid that I would just disappear, and a tear falls as I realize that I had just disappeared. Over and over again. Disappeared from her life.

A hand closes over my shoulder, and I feel Lexa’s warmth encompass me as I quickly wipe away my grief. My sadness at not having been there for my child. 

“You okay?” She asks, and I nod. There really isn’t much else to say, because if I answer, then I’ll cry more. She pulls me into her, and her lips press against my dirty head. “You smell like dirt and forest,” she says, and I remember that I still need to clean up. 

“I have dirt in my bra from where you landed that dirt clod on my chest, dick,” I tell her. Her chest shakes as a soft chuckle flows from her lips. “I’m going to go and wash up.”

Lexa looks at me funky, and I quirk a brow at her. “You aren’t going shampoo first?”

Shaking my head, I hold up the now empty jug. “You used all the water and the quarters, so I am going to wash up with the sink and no hair washing is just the way it goes. We’re camping.”

She looks over where Jacky is playing, and then back at me. “I’ve never been camping before,” she admits. Then adds, “I didn’t really know what to expect, but three minute showers was definitely not it. I’ll get you quarters from inside.”

She doesn’t even wait for me to argue with her. Which I would have. I mean it’s not that big of a deal. But she is back before I can even take my eyes away from Jacky running in circles with the same little boy holding her hands. 

Lexa laughs looking over at Jacky. “Were you that friendly when you were a kid?”

I shake my head. “My dad tried, but I was too scared to approach people. School made it easier, and I had a friend named Wells… but he tried to save me when I was swirling the drain so I did what I did best. I fucked him, and then fucked him over.” Taking a deep breath, I try to contain my emotions. “His dad sent him to military school when he came home high and drunk after following me to a party the day after we… He saw me being fucked by another girl against the wall in front of everyone.”

Lexa’s arms wrap around me and pull me into her chest. Her steady breath, tells me my confession was not frightening to her. “We both have done things we are not proud of, but it doesn’t change how much I love you.”

Snuggling my face against her, I tell her, “Jacky asked if you were her new mommy.”

Her muscles tighten a little, and I hear her heart beat pick up. She shifts a little so I am leaning back in her arms looking up at her. “I’m not going to replace you,” she says softly. 

A weight feels like it is being lifted from my chest. Staring into her eyes, I smile. My arms coming around her neck to pull her lips down to mine. A gentle kiss that is broken apart as Jacky calls up, “Lexa, stop trying to eat Momma’s face!” 

Solid giggles follow her demand, and Lexa leans forward to whisper in my ear, “That’s not what I want to eat.”

Heat flushes through my chest and up my neck. Nipping at my ear, she continues her explanation, “What I really want to do is take you in that tiny ass stall and dip deep inside of you and press against that spot I know you love.” I feel my clit pulse, and she doesn’t stop. “My thumb rubbing over your clit, as I feel you shuddering in my arms.”

My breath is caught in my chest, but a little hand is tugging at my shirt, and I look down to see Jacky staring up at me. “Momma, this is Kara and Luke’s mommy.” 

I release Lexa and turn to see a woman with matching features to the dark haired boy that is still holding onto my daughter’s hand. I smile warmly, and hold out my hand. “Hi, I’m Clarke.”

“Hiya,” the woman answers, “I’m Casey, and I was going to take the kids to the playground just on the other side of the store. Jacky said you still need to shower, so I would be happy to watch her with the others.” Casey points over to where I can see the wooden play structure. 

“Please, Momma?” Jacky begs, and I take another look over Casey. There are about four other children looking up at Lexa in awe. The older girl tugging at another girl’s shirt and pointing up at my fiancee. 

“You have a fan, Lex,” I tell her, and then turn back to Casey. “Thank you. I promise not to be long.”

The woman nods, as Lexa hops over the railing and down to where the girls are star struck. I smile, but take this opportunity to sneak into the shower stall and start stripping. I hold up the bag and see that Lexa got me about twenty dollars worth of quarters.  _ Dork. _

Stripping down, I watch as dirt clumps fall from under my breasts and laugh as how dirty I managed to get. Running the wash cloth under the small sink, I use it to wet my skin and soap up. It doesn’t take too long, and I am under the water stream washing away the suds and drenching my hair. I use Jacky’s 2 in 1 shampoo and get washed up quickly. The water hasn’t shut off before I hear the door creak open, and Lexa tell me, “I am going to add a few more quarters for you, Princessa.”

“Thank you, babe,” I answer, and hear the machine click and the coins jingle as they are deposited. I enjoy the extra three minutes, before taking the still wet towel and running the icy material over my body. I exit to see Lexa leaning against the door. She has a smug grin playing over her lips as her eyes lock in on my hard nipples. 

With brows furrowing, I start to pull the towel up and chastise her, but she is too fast for me, and her arms too long. She reaches forward and has me in her arms and my face pressed to the wall. Her body pressed against my back, as one hand holds my hands together against the wall with one hand, and her other hand comes down to settle between my legs. Cupping my slightly spiky cunt, I feel her finger dip within and trace a circle around my clit that has me panting and pressing my ass back into her. 

“Fuuucckkkk,” I let out.

But her tongue clicks, as her lips get closer to my ear, “Language, Klark. Language.” Her finger picks up speed, and I open my mouth but close it again. 

Her whispering isn’t helping, as she tells me just how badly she has wanted to touch me all day. “I love how wet you get for me. It makes me want to punish this little pussy of yours. Remind you why you get so wet for me.”

Her finger slides further down, and then within. 

“Please, Lexi,” I plead. “More.”

She takes the lobe of my ear between her lips and sucks as she adds another finger. Pulling me upward. Her palm rubbing my clit as she dances her fingers against my frontal wall. Releasing my lobe, she runs her tongue over the ridge of my ear, and then whispers, “I’m going to shove my tongue in your cunt now, and you’re going to be a good girl and cum all over my face.”

She doesn’t wait for my response, as her fingers release my hands and the others withdraw from my pussy. I am turned, and Lexa is on her knees pulling one of my legs up to rest on her shoulder as she runs her tongue over and through me. Humming in approval. “You taste so sweet. I could live off your essence alone.”

I throw my head back, as her tongue probes against my entrance. 

“Oh god!”

And her tongue presses within me, as her arm comes up and over my thigh, securing me to her. Her thumb running over my clit, spreading the heat throughout my body. 

“Don’t stop,” I beg her, but she withdraws and smiles up at me. 

“Cum on my tongue, Klark.”

Her tongue entering me again, bobbing in and out of me. Swirling along the inside of me, and electricity fires through my nerves. Lightning flashing behind my lids, quaking my muscles into spasms, while my orgasm washes over me like fresh rain in summer. Sudden and powerful. 

Her tongue lap up my release, before she comes up and presses her slick lips to mine. A hungry kiss, of teeth and tongue. Her hand coming up and squeezing my breast. I pull back some because it’s sore. 

Her eyes narrow as she looks me over, and falls to where her hand lies. “What’s wrong babe?”

I smile pulling away to get into my bag. “I’m getting ready to start, and they are sore is all.”

“You sure?” she asks, a tone soaked in worry. 

Nodding my bra over my shoulder, and her hands come up to fasten it. Her silence tells me this conversation is not over, but as I count the days, I’m not lying. I should be hitting the monthly flow in like four days if I am on time this month. 

It takes me no time to get redressed, and we are out the door and heading over to see Jacky on the swing next to her new friend. When my baby sees us, she leaps from the swing, eating shit as she lands. But no tears, not from my girl, just pushing off the ground and running into my waiting arms. 

“Momma, I flew!” she exclaims, her arms flying out wide like wings. 

Lexa reaches down and takes Jack in her steady arms. With just a little bend of her knees she tosses my baby in the air before catching the squealing girl, yelling, “Again! Again!”

With laughter from Jacky, and huffs from Lexa, she heaves Jacky in the air repeatedly, catching her with ease. When her arms look tired, she twists my girl and places her on her shoulders. Running around the play space, as Jacky calls out airplane sounds.

“Your family is beautiful, Clarke,” Casey says next to me. 

Glancing back at her, I smile.  _ My family.  _ My hand comes up over my chest, as I embrace that this is my family. That I have a family, with a future wife, and my daughter. That we are going to be a family.

“Thank you, Casey.”

Lexa has pulled Jacky from her shoulders and she is leaning over Jacky’s feet, looking like she is tying the little shoes. They look to be in deep conversation, so I hold back. Wanting to give Lexa time to bond with her future daughter. As Lexa sits up on her heals, Jacky’s arms wrap around her neck, and she presses a kiss to the side of her face. 

They seem to be finishing up, but then I see Lexa pull something from her pocket, and Jacky holds out her hand. I watch as Lexa slips a tiny ring over my daughter’s right hand, before wrapping her arms around her little waist as arms wrap around Lexa’s neck. 

The hug lasts a minute before Jacky comes running up to me yelling, “Momma! Momma! Mommy Lexi just asked me to marry her!” She holds up the tiny silver ring around her finger. It's a little large but the tiny details that match my ring is overwhelming. 

Lexa stands by shifting her feet with her hands in her torn hoodie. Her head is down,her eyes are up shining with pride. But she is trying to be subtle. I stand up, picking up my kid just under her butt. I have to huff a little because she is getting heavy with age, but none of that matter. 

None of it could matter, because Lexa didn’t just ask to marry me. 

She wants to marry my baby as well as me. 

She wants to be Jacky’s other mommy. 

Unnameable emotions run through me. Pooling to areas that I thought would forever be empty. Filled now with joy and love for this woman that swooped into my life and brought my family back together, while making herself a home as well.

Jacky is thumping a little in my arms as Lexa wraps us into a giant family hug. An embrace that marks the beginning of our lives together. 

Casey comes up and asks if I would like her to take a photo. I quickly hand her my phone and Jacky and I pose holding our ringed hands up to show off our sparkly princess jewelry.

“One, two, three, say cheese,” she instructs.

With wide smiles, we all yell, “Cheese!” And smile broadly for the camera. As the camera clicks a few times, I turn my head and press my lips to Lexa’s. Our kiss immortalized on digital memory of our second engagement. 

As Casey hands me back my camera, Lexa takes Jacky from my arms. Her little arms wrapping around Lexa’s neck, as she asks very seriously, “Does this mean my name is going to be Jacky fucking Trikru?”

My eyes narrow at Lexa and my hand shoots out smacking her hard in the stomach. Telling Jacky, “No, baby, Lexa is giving that up. She is going to be Lexa Griffin. Huh, babe.”

Lexa’s eyes widen, “Wait… what? Babe?!”

I take my child from her arms and put her on the ground. Waving bye and thanks to Casey, we start our trek back to the campsite, as Lexa is jogging and turning to face us as she walks backwards. “Babe.”

“Lexi,” I say back, still irritated she taught  _ our _ five-year-old the word ‘fuck’.

“Babe… my name is like my trademark,” she pleads. I fight back the smile, and keep up my front. 

Lifting my brows, I tell her, “But you have a chance to start over with Griffin.”

“But... Babe!” And she trips a little, having to turn and walk alongside of me, with her hands out as she explains the value of her last name. I laugh internally, knowing that I will take her name as well as keep mine, but she doesn’t need to know that right now. Right now she can beg, as penance. 


	41. There's always a price.

**~Lexa~**

I really hope the blonde is joking. Like she has to understand that I can’t change my name. It’s the trademark, the money maker. The way that I’m going to pay for that house. That house that has an offer in and now I can’t even get reception.

We walk with Jacky pointing out every flower she sees, and I feel the tension rise within again. I want to give them the world. I want to make all of their dreams come true, and for Jacky to have a neighborhood with other kids around. Not just a creepy corn field in the middle of nowhere. _Why did someone else have to put in an offer? I mean it’s our house. Clarke’s dream house._

Pulling my phone out again, I check the bars, and there is nothing. Nothing to let me check my offer. Nothing to see if Tris has pulled through and got me that contract for the European league. Nothing from Emori about my baby’s safety.

Letting out a heavy breath, I close my eyes and proceed, but an elbow in my side has me jumping slightly.

“You’re jumpy,” the husky voice comes from beside me, as the child’s laughter is a little before us. The little warrior princess running before us, arms still out as though she’s still flying.

Holding out my arm, I pull Clarke into my side, and check my phone again. She takes the phone from my hand and starts to pocket it, but I snap again, “Give it back.”

Feet slowing, her head is pulled free from me and she pauses looking me over. Hand tentatively handing me back the phone, while her eyes study my face. She’s contemplating something, and I dread the fruition of her analysis. I’ve tried so hard to keep the offer under wraps so she won’t try to back out of the house. I know she is still worried about money. I mean she just made me take a six minute shower. And then there’s that other thing where she might get mad that I may be leaving. Might is probably an understatement, but I mean I’m not leaving leaving, though Clarke would surely argue that going to play ball halfway across the world is leaving, but the down payment for the house is so much, and she needs a safer car, and I just want to have a safety net that I almost lost to Anya.

I decide to cut her off before she can ask, and I offer up, “Ok I can get the shower system... but there's no reception.” I take my phone from her and check the screen once more. “How can people get help when they can't contact anyone?”

I pull her back in, hoping that she’ll accept my answers, and it seems to work. Or she is just distracted, because Jacky is back and her tired eyes are looking up at Clarke. Arms up she silently calls for Clarke to carry her. I reach down to grab her, but she shakes her head, and tells me, “No, I want my momma.” Her little brow furrows at me, and lips pout, I pull back.

Clarke shakes her head though, and tells her daughter, “Jack, that was rude. Apologize.”

Jacky looks down at the ground, and whispers, “Sorry.” It’s not a real sorry, but her stomach gurgles then, and I realize she is not trying to be rude. She’s hungry. She’s hungry and tired, and she has probably never gotten to spend this much time with Clarke before, and even now she has to share her.

Kneeling down, I nudge her little face up to see mine, and there are tears glistening at the edges of her beautiful grey blue eyes. “Hey there squirt, it’s ok. I’m not angry.”

Buried in her eyes, she’s still hurting. Hurting in a way all too familiar. Searching for acceptance, and I know. I know that pain, so I tell her, “And I don’t want to steal your momma from you but you see, I think you and I…” I glance up at Clarke, then continue, “we can make a great team.”

Jacky’s head tilts and she’s considering the options. She looks into my eyes, and the weight of being judged by this child feels like the most important moment of my life. Heart racing I say, “We can take care of her... like she’s been taking care of us this morning. I carry you and the bags and then she’ll be less tired to play with you after lunch. What do you say? Deal?”

She looks at Clarke, then back at me and off to the distance, mewling over what I just said. I can see the wheels turning inside her head. She even does the same face as Clarke when she’s thinking, the lip biting and nose scrunching thing. Nature or nurture? Maybe the genes. But I’m starting to see how Jacky is very much Clarke, more that the mother suspects, beyond the obvious physical traits.

I’m lost in those details of her eyelashes, and the tiny mark darkening over her upper lip when I feel a feathery touch on my hand. Looking down, Jacky’s hand waits for me to grab it. I take the tiny sticky hand in mine trying not to wonder how she is already sticky again, and she hammers her hand up and down in an over confident shake. “Deal!” she says with a toothy grin, and I stand up taking her with me in my ascent.

So it’s with the kid on my right arm, bags tucked between our bodies and my left arm around my love’s shoulders that we make the rest of the trek back to our camp. Jacky manages to fall asleep despite the bumps and rocks, and the uncomfortable position offered by the bags. Clarke takes her from me and wakes her up long enough to give her a chicken salad sandwich and apple sauce before she’s tucking her within the tent while I’m fixing lunch for us.

Coming out of the tent, Clarke leaves a part of the zipper undone before she joins me by the campsite table. Her eyes are drooping, and the irony of her words falls in place, “Well I think she’s out for some time. Abby said she usually naps about 2 to 3 hours.” My princess clearly needs a nap too. After a bite, she says,  “Thank you.”

I’m puzzled for a second, and ask “What for?”

“Compromising with her. It’s all so new. I know it might not be easy for you,” blue eyes look up from her hunched posture. Defeat. A look too common found on my princess.

“Sure,” I answer. Carefully wading through the questionable river of her emotional state, “We all have to find our place and I don’t want to come between you two but I’m committed to you and that little girl. I’m committed to this family, easy or not.”

> I should’ve known she knew something was wrong. I should’ve known that Clarke would know that I was hiding something. She always knows, making surprising that woman impossible.

“So would you mind telling me what’s really bothering you?”

_Shit. Shit shit. Fucking damn it!_

I wish she couldn’t read me so easily. I don’t have time to think something over. To think up a lie before she speaks again. “Lex, I let it go earlier because of Jack but I’m not dumb. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

A thought comes to me then, a realization that my first instinct was to lie to her.

“I…” I start but I don’t know what to say. Shaking my head, I don’t want to lie anymore. Not to myself, and certainly not to her.

But this isn’t how I wanted things to go down. I was supposed to know about the house and my contract and bring it all up with a neat little bow. But not like this when it’s all up in the air. My chest deflates, the air leaving me with a heavy sigh.

I don’t want to argue, but I have to come clean. Come clean about what’s weighing me down... well maybe not about the contract just yet.

 _You’re still lying,_ that nagging voice tells me. And I argue with it. _Yes lying by omission is still lying but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Hell, I don’t even know myself._

Glancing up at the sky, I take in the shifting leaves of the overhead head canopy and absorb the voice’s reminder, _Still a lie._

“Ok,” I start, finding my resolve to tell her about the house. Only about the house, “so remember the house we looked up. I know we said we would discuss about it again before making any decision but when I saw that someone made an offer I freaked out and put one too.”

Her eyes don’t move. Just watching me in a cold stare. My confession heavy, as I tell her, “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it but that’s our house, where Jacky will have her bedroom and Rexa will run in the yard. Our house Clarke, and I didn’t want to lose it to someone else.” I want her to know how much this means to me, but I also know that Clarke doesn’t like to be kept out of decisions when she’s involved. So I drop my head in defeat, unable to look at those expressive eyes, waiting for the inevitable outburst. Twisting the sandwich in my hands, I ruin most of my meal as I steel myself for the onslaught of yelling, nothing comes.

Taking a chance, my eyes glance back up and I’m taken aback by the softness I find. I didn’t think Clarke would be anything but angry. But she’s looking at me with so much love that I’m at a loss.

Her eyes close for a second and her lips slide inward, coming back out wet and kissable. Chin downward, she reaches over and takes my hands that are now sticky with sandwich residue. Shaking her head lightly, frizzy blonde hair moves in the light ray of light solely focused on her through the trees. Like the higher power she doesn’t believe in herself is showing me the perfection that I have managed to associate myself with. A reminder that it’s a privilege to get to love and be loved by her.

“You countered my offer,” she whispers and a soft chuckle falls from her lips. Blue raising and chest quaking in silent laughter, as I my jaw falls open. _She… but the down… what the fuck?!_

I look around the table trying to place the imaginary money that she has apparently accumulated, but like fake bills seem to be, there is no answer to my eyes that I can just know. So I ask, “Where did you get the money from that kind of down payment?”  
A lip slides between her teeth, and the laughter and love is replaced by nervousness. “Anya,” is all she says, and I feel my face move in irritation. Anya gives nothing without a price, and anger begins to flood my bloodstream at the type of _things_ Anya would want from what is mine.

“What did you have to do with her to get that kind of cash?” I practically growl in accusation, my hands withdrawing sharply from hers. Confusion changing the nervousness in her eyes, but even that is short lived as the blood creeps up her neck and settles just below the squinted eyes of betrayal. My words taking home, as she realizes that I know. I know that Anya would never just give. It’s not ANya, and there is only one thing that Clarke could have given her. Herself.

But Clarke’s shoulders raise, and resolve hardens as eyes rake over my equally angry form. Her defensive stance that I’m familiar with. Her demeanor changing as she prepares to challenge what I know as truth.

_How could she?_

I can practically see her rage bubbling under her skin as she stands from the table, walking away from the tent where the kid that’s supposed to be mine rests. The kid that I was going to adopt after I married her mother. The life I was trying to build for us, walking away.

I follow her, several yards away from the campsite, but not far enough that we can’t return in a moment. Her small feet stalling and face to the lake. I see the anger dissolve though. Shoulders falling, and arms wrapping around herself, as the words crack coming out, “I’ll… never be more. You… I’m always going to be a slut.”

The single word a shard of steel that slices between through my skin and slides between the dense cage to my lungs. Deflating my air as I consider for the first moment that maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I just hurt her for no reason. Hurt her and drudged up all of her insecurities.

I don’t speak though. I don’t because what if I’m right?

Not moving closer to her, I give her space to drop her head. Space to shake under a current of silent sobs as her fingers tighten into her arms. But when her knees shake, I can’t stand by any longer, moving forward to catch her before she hits the ground. Because even if she did… even if she did what I think Anya would have her do, I don’t want to see her hurt like this.

My arms catching her light figure, as she sobs out, “Restitution… video…” each word a new shard embedded in my sternum, as I embrace what I have done. How I ruined our perfect day with lies and accusations. And her tiny fists hitting against my chest are nothing compared to the beating of my heart that pummels me from within. Nothing as I absorb her words and they tear within.

“I’m sorry,” is all I can manage and it's not enough. It will never be enough compared to what I just did with only a sentence. My eyes closed so I don’t see her breaking anymore, and the blood draining from my head as I feel the Earth twist and my grasp on reality is fading.

Clarke face buried against my chest, begging for understanding, “I would never… I love you. I love you and I wouldn’t...” Each word hurting more because I’m wrong. I’m wrong and cruel and she is begging me. Pleading me with words of kindness and I… I am nothing.

“I shouldn’t have thought...I didn’t mean to think...With Anya, there was always a price to pay and...I’m sorry.” Words are too weak to express the pit of my wrongdoing but that’s all I have. Right now that’s all I have, with hope, and if after this she’ll still have me then I’ll have to work twice as hard to make certain she can obliterate this perception of self she holds.


	42. Rewind or Rewrite

**~Clarke~**

_ She just…  _

My mind tries to reject what’s happening. 

_ How could she think that I would…? _

There is no real way to explain the impact of her accusation. Like how Lexa could believe after all we have been through together… that she could think that I would so easily fall into Anya’s bed. Let’s not even talk about the practicality of me spending almost every moment with Lexa for the past week. Because really it has only been a week since I officially met her ex. 

_ I gave her my heart and she thinks I sold my cunt and for what… a house payment.  _ Lexa jumping here though. She heard Anya and immediately registered me taking her dick, or tongue, or whatever. None of that really matters, because I didn’t. I fucking didn’t and wouldn’t.

_ What does she think of me? _ My hands bunch in her t-shirt, and I remain cradled in her arms. Holding me like she is protecting me, like she has to protect me from myself and my poor decisions. Like I will never be more than the slut she never actually met. That girl was long gone before today but I realize she will never be gone.  _ I was a fool to think my past would be so easily forgotten between us.  _

Snot running down my nose and spreading over her shirt, I embrace that I’ll always be a slut to her. I’ll always be someone that she has to worry about spreading wide. And this is a reality that I don’t want to deal with. 

I don’t want to have to prove her wrong, not on our first family trip. Not when mere hour ago, she officially asked Jacky to be part of her life. 

Rage boils within as I am reminded that she could just accuse me so easily of fucking Anya. Anya, the scary bitch that used to beat her and twice forced an unwelcomed kiss onto my lips. 

The fabric twists between my fingers and I wipe my face over her clean shirt, so I can hurt her. It’s nothing compared to what she has done to me, but I know it will disgust her. So I wipe a jagged line of mucus over the dark fabric and pull back.

Hands against her chest, as I push myself out of her embrace. My legs wobbly and jeans get dusty as I try to get up from the ground. 

Standing up, I take a few steps away. Give myself a little room to see her. The whole her. Trying to take in her kneeling form. Her limp arms along her sides, when she looks at everything but me. Her eyes move all around where I am standing.

Rubbing my hands over my face, I dry the tear tracks on my cheeks and shake my head to clear my thoughts. I want her to look at me, but she doesn’t. She remains on the ground, defeated. 

Defeated and vacant of any signs of life. I wonder then if this is what Anya did to her. If maybe this has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with what Anya did to her. It tears at my heart, because I don’t know. I mean clearly there are some issues that haven’t been dealt with completely.  _ But are they my issues or hers? _

Shaking my head again, I just wish we could backpedal. Hit the rewind button of life, and not go there. But life doesn’t rewind besides the loops of painful memories, and as much as I just wanted our first happy family weekend, I can’t let this go. I can’t just let it go, because it’s not just me and Lexa. I have to think of Jacky too.

I pace in front of her as I talk, trying to dissipate the tension from the anger rising. “I…” but I stop because that isn’t the way I want to start this. Trying again, I state, “We’re about to share a life together, Lexa. I’m not only putting my life in your hands but my daughter’s too.” 

I stop to look at her again. My chest puffed up and ready to fight for us, but I deflate. Lexa is not looking at me. She’s looking at anything but me. And I know I’ve hit a nerve, just like she did. “You’ve helped me fight every step of the way to own up to who I’ve become. What kind of mother do you think I want to be?“

She doesn’t answer though, and her chin has fallen so I can only see the top of her head. 

Not sure what else to try, I ask, “What’s with Anya that would make you think I would go back to my old ways?”

Nothing.

“I may have been a slut Lexa, and I may have done a lot of things that I’m not proud of, but prostitution was never one of them. Never have I sold my body. Never,” the repetition of the word helping me fill myself with something. Some sense of pride that even though I was a slut, I was never a whore. 

Her shoulder rise and fall heavy, as birds sing. Birds sing as I practically shout at her, “Fuck Lexa, if you don’t trust me just say so,” with my arms flying up to the world. 

My arms heavy, extending into the space beyond me as I watch her. As I watch and wait for her to talk. I need her to say something, anything but she doesn’t even look at me. Her eyes rising just to the forest floor before my feet.  

All of the fight that I had come to know, even when she was trying to hurt me with her passive aggressive rage that she took out on her friends and the waitress. It’s like she’s not even there anymore. And it’s frustrating. 

It’s frustrating and everything in me is urging me to fight. My heart’s steady war drum blocking out most of the rest of the world. The anger still coursing through my arteries and fueling my cells to move. Fueling my cells to move and shake her. Slap her. Anything to bring her back to me, but that also means calming down.

Deciding that It’s not the time, nor the place. I take a step, then another until I’m just over her. I don’t look down. I just stand there, my hand coming out and resting on her shoulder. 

> In retrospect, if I had pushed a little more that day to communicate, we would have prevented further troubles in our relationship, from all the future troubles that stem to this very moment. Her shutting down and my plastic smile set a norm on that day that inhibited so many of our important conversations that led to more secrets. 

I wait for just a moment longer, but when she makes no move to say anything, I decide maybe she just needs to pretend like this never happened. 

I don’t move...8

Hold my breath, needing to count down.

I don’t though...7

One breath, short and to the point.

I don’t strike back... 6

Count to two, letting the air out.

I don’t try to fight her… 5

This one is a three, let it be.

I don’t want her pain now...4

Four is shorter and easy.

I don’t wish her to feel at loss...3

Holding five, release. 

I don’t possess the will to hurt her...2

Six brings calm.

I don’t want to waste what’s left today...1 

Seven smile.

“You know what. Nevermind. There’s a little girl that needs me and I will focus on her for the rest of the weekend.”

Still nothing. 

“So, just stay here or take a walk. I don’t care.” 

And I leave. I leave her there while I head the fifteen yards back to the camp. Giving her the space she clearly needs.  _ Or the space that I need. _

Looking at the table, I see the crushed sandwich that she hadn’t even bothered to eat. The sandwich she crushed in her hands as she looked at me from across the table and accused me of fucking her ex. 

Unable to stop replaying the scene, I move to the table after grabbing a plastic bag. Ants have already crawled up the leg of the table and deconstructing what was left of Lexa’s lunch. One line in and one line out. An efficiency so inhuman that I just stand still and watches the flawless teamwork.

Mind wandering if Lexa and I would ever develop that form of balance.  I could only hope that maybe one day we would learn to work so cohesively.

Smiling a little broader, I try to push away the echo of her accusation. Clean away the event as if without the paper plates and sandwiches remnants there was never an accusation. We were not hurting, and that Lexa just took a walk because she likes fitness and I don’t.

_ She has to stay in shape,  _ I tell myself. Knowing it’s a lie but trying to reconstruct our story into something else. Something that is completely different like a fanfiction alternate universe. Where Lexa and I can both be something other than a tragic precautionary tale. 

~~~~~

With the mess cleaned, and nothing really left to do. With nothing to do and still no Lexa, I decide to check on Jacky.

Carefully pulling at the zipper, I make my way within the tent and settle by the air mattress on the plastic floor of the tent. I don’t want to make it move with my own added wait. 

Jacky’s eyes flutter so peacefully that I worry if I breathe too loud, she’ll wake up. But her only heavy movement is the rise and fall of her tiny chest. The tent filled with a subtle snore and I feel the corners of my lips ease.

My mouth less programed and more sincere as I notice that she even seems to be smiling in her sleep. The fictional happiness is replaced as I feel my smile creep up my face, and crinkle into the edges of my eyes. It’s funny how it takes a sleeping child to put my mind at ease, or to just put perspective in my life. 

Carefully I extend an arm and avoid pressing down on the mattress, but I need to brush my fingertips softly over the baby hair on the side of her head. To feel the soft wisps of childhood that still cling to her, but fade a little more each day. 

And as though she knows I am there even in her state of unconsciousness, she’s leaning into my hand. Her sleeping body seeking more contact, and I want to just pull her in. Pull her into my chest and cradle her like the infant that I pushed away. 

But that would wake her. It would wake her and I know it’s too early for her to stir yet. Reluctantly, I retract my hand, let out a deep sigh and move back outside. My eyes processing the glaring ray of light that bakes the top of my head. Squinting, I spot my backpack in the corner before I close up the zipper. I don’t bother looking for what I know is inside. 

I take the whole thing with me, and navigate to the lounge chair by the fire pit. The chair that’s oversized and leans back to accommodate basketball giants like Emori and Lexa. Dwarfed by its side, I pull the bag in my lap and cross my legs. It takes a few moments to rummage through the contents looking for the tin of pencils I had prepared in case I felt like drawing again, which hasn’t happened a lot lately. 

For quite some time actually. 

Success is mine though as my fingers wrap around the small tin of pencils and remove the dinged box from within. My hand dips back in only for a moment and the large sketchbook is easier to find. With both in my lap, I swing the bag over the chair’s arm. It thumps softly as gravity does its job and brings it back to the dirt floor. 

There’s nothing better to keep an empty mind than focus on an all encompassing task. And since I am rewriting stories, I begin a little further back. I open the book to a new blank page. Constructing a new fairytale of a little girl with blue eyes and a little cleft in her chin. I close my eyes a minute, just to picture the face of my little angel. Her little sleeping face, my new muse.

My hand twitches in anticipation of the first touch to the paper. The first touch. The first line determines the rest of the drawing. I know that if I miss the first outline, I won’t get it right. But my hand becomes once more the extension of the creative side of my brain and when I open my eyes, I can already see the perfect fullness of her baby cheeks, the curve of her little neck with the arm that rests close to her mouth. 

I keep going with the outline, making wavy strokes for her hair, barely applied touches for the eyes. As I go along, I add more and more details. And soon, I can see Jacky appear on the page in her true beauty. Stroking the page with my finger tip, spreading the lead over the area to change the shade. Darkening just slightly.

The finished product, her sleeping face that is so real that I feel like it may be easier to get through these last few nights without her. Without her until I bring her home. Bring her home… wherever that may be.  

~~~~~

I don’t know when I dozed off. The heaviness of sleep weighing on my chest, and my body still pulling me back within. But my mind is pulling at me. Tiny tingles. Nerve pulses that urge my mind to regain a sense of surrounding. Embrace the feeling of warmth. Warmth and consistent pressure from a heavy presence beside me. 

I don’t open my eyes.

There’s no need to see the body along me. For there is no noise except for her breathing. A breathing I’ve memorized during nights when I woke and looked at her in the dim light of the moon that filtered through the bedroom window. 

Lexa had come back. 

Her dense arms holding my back to her chest, and the roll of breath over the back of my neck. A hypnotizing rhythm that relaxes all further stress and wraps the pain of the day in a bubbly wrap so thick that I can’t feel the edges dig any further. The safety barrier making it possible to move forward with our weekend, and for the time being retreat into the sleep that my body needs so badly. 


	43. Am I doing the right thing?

**~Lexa~**

Everything is warm. The rustling just behind me has my skin prickling and the small hair on my arms rises. I know there are wild animals in this region. Clarke warned about snakes, and apparently this region had mountain lions as well as rabid raccoons. I’m not sure why but the rabid raccoon was the most terrifying of her warnings for me.  

Like a child, I keep my eyes closed and hold my breath until I feel like my lungs may burst, but I can’t let it out; no matter how fast my heart is beating, the air remains trapped as my lungs refuse to release. 

My mind fights to remain still. 

     My body fights to survive. 

         There could be a raccoon. 

               A raccoon with rabies. 

                     Does rabies cause zombies? 

I don't want to be a zombie.

    Would Clarke eat me if she was a zombie?

        I should get a boat. Just in case.

            Yeah, live on the water just in case.

                  And… I need a baseball bat. 

                      Wait, zombies don’t exist. 

I don’t know what to think. 

     Not when the rustling stops. 

           The rustling of leaves gone. 

                 Blood rushing all I can hear.

                     Except a tiny muffled laugh.

                          ...and I hold my breath longer, because there is not a rabid raccoon behind me. No, just the presence of a tiny girl going through something behind me, as she tries but fails at stealth, and I realize that this is something I could teach her. 

Her fumbling quiets. Little footsteps move around the chair, and I can feel her eyes on us. It's very quiet minus the sound of snot being snorted back in, which causes my stomach to jump a little as I remember that little kids are always covered in boogers. 

_ Click! _ The sound undoubtedly the fake shutter of the camera. 

And with the photo taken, I reach over the blonde in my arms, and with a goofy smile say, “BOO!” 

Little girl laughter fills the thinner mountain air, but I do not have time to join as my future wife’s elbow shoots back and her body propels upward. Her first appendage landing a strike to my abs, which her forehead quickly lands a second blow to the underside of my jaw. 

“What the fuck?!” she hisses, as I try to catch my breath.

Clarke’s grumpy sleepy face is scowling at me, like she was the one just assaulted, but then there are more  _ clicks _ as Jacky takes several more photos, and I think that maybe for Christmas we should get her a kid’s camera. I have seen them before, and she can take all the photos she wants. 

> Jacky’s photos ended up later being a rather frightening sign of how quickly things change, but the changes being so small that when you’re there. When you’re watching it, you don’t notice. 
> 
> That kid is going to be one hell of a photographer someday though. Her photos were actually the ones used for the book. 

Clarke seems to realize the game, and her attention shifts to Jacky. When she finishes taking photos, her hands lower and I notice how her eyes study Clarke’s face. 

The tiny human seems to find what she’s looking for because she discards the phone on the chair next to ours and starts climbing in Clarke’s lap. She straddles the fiery blonde and brings both her hands on each side of her mother’s face before leaning in and brushing her nose to Clarke’s, giving her an eskimo kiss.

“I love you, Mommy,” she says, and my heart warms at her words. 

Clarke’s eyes are glistening, as she answers back, “I love you, Jacqueline Griffin.” I can tell that at any moment Clarke is about to let loose a tear, which I’m sure the little warrior princess will match, so I reach over, trying to bring us back to playful. Fingers extended and wiggle them into Clarke’s sides. 

Squealing, Clarke’s body shifts and bucks, leaving Jacky holding on from being thrown to the ground. Jacky seems to catch on to what is taking place and her fingers drop from Clarke’s shirt to aiding in a ferocity that has Clarke begging for mercy and calling her daughter a traitor.

Clarke cries out, “you’re supposed to be on my side!” But Jacky just laughs and doubles her effort in the tickle war that clearly has Clarke outnumbered. “Does loyalty mean nothing to you people?!” Her pleads are lost in the laughter of her child.

I struggle whether to aid Clarke in her dilemma or prove to Jacky that I’m a suitable ally. The tiny hands sneaking up my sides decide for me and let me know where the little girl’s allegiance truly lies. I realize that I’m at a disadvantage because one of my arms is still trapped under Clarke’s head and my other is still assaulting the wrong side of my blonde lover that I’m incapable of stopping any of Jacky’s tickles. 

My own body begins fighting against the sensations that has me wiggling. My force so strong, the chair cannot contain me. My ass hitting the ground and pulling the child down with me. Making Clarke the only one left on the chair. Her arms extended as she calls out, “WINNING!”

But she doesn’t stay there long, because she is up and moving to the tent, her voice calling out, “The last one to the lake is a smelly rat!” She disappears within, and I realize she is getting in her swimsuit. 

I glance at the child sprawled over me, brushing the hair from her face. She looks utterly confused, and I tell her, “This is why you can’t switch sides in the middle of a war. We lost.”

We stay there for a few moments, and Clarke is already bouncing out of the tent in her bikini, and small shorts, that has me wanting to get to that lake much faster than I originally anticipated. “Geta move on ladies, we’re losing daylight!”

~~~~~

Sprawling out a big blanket on the shore, I watch as Clarke is applying sunscreen to the fair skin of her the miniature version of herself. Even though it’s November, the Arizona sun is still harsh making swimming plausible. However, I realize that since Jacky’s skin is as pale as Clarke’s, I will probably have two lobsters on my hands by the end of the day. I make a mental note to remind them to reapply in a little while. 

I step on the blanket and sit down before taking off my shoes and getting out of my clothes, which seems to call for some side glances from Clarke. I can’t help that she gave me no time to change though. Reaching inside my bag to check if I would get a signal for my phone on the beach, I come across the gift I had packed in Clarke’s oversized travel bag. I look up to see Clarke and Jacky making their way towards my seated self and catch Clarke’s eyes, a knowing look showing there. 

A sense of ease falls over me, tugging up the corners of my mouth. I may have fucked up earlier but it seems that I didn’t break our connection irreparably.  _ Maybe she’ll forgive me. _

Jacky is jumping up and down from sheer excitement and Clarke is trying, but failing, to get her to settle down. Seeing that the kid is about ready to bolt to the water, I use the only weapon I have with me; utter curiosity.

“Hey Jacky, your mom and I…” She is still bouncing, and I know I have to just get to the point.  “We have something for you but if you don’t want to wait I guess we’ll have to give it to someone else.” That got her attention as she promptly drops on her butt across from me and waits expectantly, head turning from me to Clarke. 

Clarke walks to her own bag and retrieves the gift, then returns to settle close to both Jacky and I. I pull out my own gift and turn back as Jacky’s eyes go wide with happiness at realizing she has not one, but two presents. 

I hand mine over to her but she puts it on the ground. At first I’m confused as to why a child would not jump at the opportunity to tear the wrapping apart but then I see her fiddle with her hands as she looks at Clarke. 

And I get it. 

She’s definitely itching to open the presents, she just wants to open her mother’s first. And as Clarke hands her hers, Jacky handles it with utmost care, as if it would break if she rushes her movements. She scrunches her eyebrows trying to determine what she is just gifted with. Then I see the moment she realizes what she has in her hands and she turns towards Clarke with the biggest and brightest smile I have ever seen. Clarke barely has time to smile back before Jacky rushes in her lap and gives her a bone crushing hug. Right then, I forget about the fact that I still have no fucking signal and there are way too many bugs flying around. The tears, the yelling, that simple moment of love swelling around makes me think that’s it’s all worth it and I swear to myself to have much more of those.

>  We did have more of those. I was even on the receiving end of a lot, having created my own relationship with Jacky. I especially loved the one with the three of us. But I came to know that that kind of love doesn’t always ease that simply the rougher moments. God knows that smart little girl tried.

As she lets go of Clarke, Jacky spares another look at the drawing set Clarke gave her and moves on to my present. Despite her earlier care, she doesn’t show as much restraint and tears the wrapping in a hurry, squealing when she sees the Hello Kitty Nerf gun. With her unabashed joy, I’m second guessing the sound choice of such gift in the hands of a little girl who showed that she loves being at war with me. I’m proved right when one foam dart hits me in the chest as soon as she grips the toy. 

“Gotcha!” She laughs as she gets up to do a victory dance, which is far too close from the ‘Winning’ pose that Clarke showed not to long ago. I close my mouth after such treachery and look up from my chest to the kid with a wide smirk plastered on my face. She starts running yelling “Momma help me!” before I get up on my two feet. Clarke hasn’t moved an inch during the whole commotion, simply laughing and shaking her head at our shenanigans.

“I’m Switzerland, don’t drag me into this or you’ll lose, again!” Clarke yells right back. I’m not sure that Jacky would really understand what Clarke said, but I guess that is something we will have to work on. I mean the kid is five. She’s not going to know what it means to be Switzerland.

I can’t dwell on this though. Not when I have a head of blonde to catch with a blasted weapon that I provided. In a few broad paces, I reach Jacky and scoop her up in my arms, throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her back to the blanket like a sack of potatoes. She’s squealing and laughing and trying to tickle me so I drop her. I faint sprint to the lake when I hear Clarke calling at us. “Lexa wait! She needs her floaties.” 

Right. But it’s not like I was actually going to run in the water. 

Sighing, I turn around and head back to the blanket. I let go of Jacky and settle back beside Clarke. I gather the discarded wrapping to put it in my bag before the breeze let it fly away. I’m checking my phone again when I hear Clarke trying to get my attention.

“Sorry what?” I ask her as I clearly missed what she asked of me. “The floaties, can you help me blow them?” I reach out to grab the one she’s not currently taking care of. When I see her grab the cap to blow in with her mouth like it’s absolutely normal, I grunt. God knows whose lips touched these before. I grab the water bottle and a tissue to clean it up before blowing with the tip of my lips. I test the pressure as I go and nod to myself at my handy work. 

I turn around to give it back to Clarke who’s already looking at me, stifling a laugh. I quirk an eyebrow in question but she doesn’t say a thing, shaking her head and refocusing on Jacky as she goes to put the floaties on. I settle on my elbows as I keep on watching mother and daughter interact. How it all comes more naturally to Clarke that she even realizes. Jacky seems to be debating something as Clarke waits for her to present her arms. 

Clarke’s brow scrunches as she holds up the orange floaties that look like that funky fish from that Disney movie. Large blue eyes look to me as if I would know more than her but I’m as lost as she is. I’m about to sit back up when Jacky determinedly takes the floaties from Clarke and declares, “I can do it. I’m big now.” Clarke looks at me again but I just shrug. What more can I say?

I look on as Jacky clearly struggles to push the floaties high enough on her arms to be comfortable but I follow Clarke and say nothing, simply watching in amusement. From the corner of my eye, I notice Clarke chewing at the inside of her cheek, a sign that something is bothering her. I store that with the other little things I’ve noticed with Clarke to bring it up at a later time.

Proudly all set, Jacky walks between the two of us and extends her arms towards each of us in a clear silent command to grab her hands and get up. Clarke gets up with ease, but her free hand comes down to help me up. The first time she has made an attempt to touch me since our argument, and with one hand in Jacky’s and one hand in mine, I know things are going to be okay. 

I get up using mostly my legs, because I know that neither Griffin can hold my mammoth size, but I let them think that they actually help me. Even looking at Jacky with a wide mouth, and tell her, “You are so strong.”

A cheesy grin pulls across the girl’s face as she holds up her arms and shows us her floatie covered muscles. “I’m the hulk!” she growls, and then turns to run for the water. 

Clarke laughing and running after her. Both splashing into the water like it wasn’t a microbe filled lake, or that something may bite them. And I look down to my boy shorts and bikini top, and realize that they are expecting me to get into the water too. Think I am supposed to do this as well. 

But… I don’t want to. 

I mean yeah it’s family time… but a lake… fishes are in a lake, and many other creatures that should have no place around a body of water. 

Jacky squeals, as Clarke lifts her up and tosses her into the water so she submerges and then comes back up spitting out disgusting water. 

Nope. Not going to happen.

Jacky is laughing and her arms flopping in the water, as I reach the edge and look at the rippling surface. 

_ What if there is like a giant serpent in there and we get attacked?  _ I mean… it’s been known to happen sometimes. At least they say it has. 

“Come on Lexi!” Jacky squeals out, and my eyes meet the blue’s of Clarke’s as she waves for me to join them in the murky death trap. 

“I’m good right here. I’ll keep watch.” 

> You gotta give a girl points for trying. 

I mean, if I can escape a pool of bacteria while passing as a wuss then I’ll be a wuss with a head held high. I still have my pride. But it looks like I won’t be given time to perfect it as I’m being called out by a kid that barely reaches my thigh in seize. 

“Lexa is a scaredy cat. Big baby!” and the worst is that Clarke is joining her. “The big bad Commander defeated by still water. This is a tragedy!”

I whine as as I bring my toes to the surface. “Claaaarke. It’s cold and green. I’m going to be sick from either or both!”

“God Lexa could you be more dramatic.”

I pout, but I know I can’t let this stand. I can’t let my future kid know I am a pussy when it comes to water. I can’t let her see my crazy, not like my mom. 

_ I’m not my mom _ , I repeat to myself. 

And I keep repeating it as Jacky comes over and takes my hand. The child guiding me into the cold water that is probably going to kill me, but at least I’ll die a warrior. A shivering warrior that contracts some flesh eating disease.

But Jacky doesn’t seem to notice that I don’t want to go in. I realize that I am being bested by a five year old, and I shake away my hesitation. I let go of the kid’s hand and take off in an awkward run. Leaping into a fucked up belly flop that covers Clarke in the murky water as I fight to keep my face above the water. 

Gasping for air, trying to keep the water out of my mouth. I mean, I may puke if the water goes in my mouth. Or my nose. But I don’t get my way.

Not when hands come up and push me downward. 

“Noooooo.” I shriek but my mouth is filled with water as I continue to say silently, “NO! No no no!” 

_ Damn it.  _ No, I don’t want to have to take another shower. Fucking Clarke is going to make me take another fucking shower in those midget sized torture boxes.

Hands are on me again, I think that they are about to push me under so I grab the girl and throw her to her mother and she hits the water and covers Clarke in an impressive splash. 

This becomes the game. 

Who can make Jacky fly the highest, which is me. Who can get Jacky create the largest splash, and I won that shit too! And the whole being in the water thing didn’t seem so bad. 

~~~~~

The campfire crackles, the blaze sending warmth flooding over my face. I hold the top of the thin piece of metal and push on a fluffy marshmallow. Jacky standing between my legs holds the end of the straightened out wire hanger and waits for instructions. 

I help Jacky hold it out, and glance over to where Clarke is glancing at us, and then down at her pad where her hand move quickly. “Be careful now,” I tell her as I help her hold the marshmallow above the fire. 

Quietly, Clarke says, “They’re better when they burn.” I glare at her, as Jacky turns to watch her mother, processing her words. 

“I want to burn it,” the little girl states and her hands force the marshmallow into the flame where it catches a blaze. Blue eyes widen and her mouth opens wide watching the sugar charcoal over. 

I growl, “Seriously,” but the kid just stares at the fluffy white object melts and falls into the fire. 

A little lip pouts as she turns to me and asks, “What happened?”

I shake my head, and tell her, “You can’t just leave it in the fire.”

“I want it burned,“ she answers. “Like Mommy said.” She shakes the hot pole at me so I will put another marshmallow on the end. “It has to burn for Mommy,” she tries again.

I hold her hands to keep her from burning my face with the end of the pole. “You cannot wave the pole around when it is hot.” Her lips still pouting and she cast a glance back at Clarke, before she leans in closer, whispering. “I want to make one the way Mommy will like.”

I look at the way her chin lowers, and I know that need. The need to please a mother that hasn’t been there. The effects of Clarke’s absence in her life weighs on me, as I take in the full force of understanding that I share with this tiny human.

My hand comes up and cups her cheek, raising her face for her to see me. “She loves you more than anything,” I tell her. 

Her eyes tell me she understands, and she bites down on her lip. She nods then and I pull another mallow from the bag and put it on the poker. Guiding it to the fire, I whisper, “To burn it you have to let it catch fire and then pull it out.”

We watch together as the flame ignites once more and this time I help her pull it out. I bring it closer to her lips, and tell her, “Blow.”

She does as instructed, and her lips pucker as she blows over the object. 

The fire flickers and the marshmallow is left a dark charcoaled mess on the pole. She smiles then and swings the pole over towards Clarke. Jacky squeals, “LOOK!”

And Clarke did look. She looked just as the burned sugar mess flies off the pole and is launched like a torpedo that just misses. 

Eyes wide, Clarke stares at us momentarily. Her mouth opening and then closing. Before finally she finds her words, “Soo… that was awesome.” Smiling, I grab the poker and put on another mallow. 

“This time you can’t wave the pole around,” and Jacky nods as she pushes the poker back into the fire. I’m nervous about how excited she is, but I let her do it. Watching carefully as she follows all previously given instructions and manages to get the burning marshmallow out of the fire so I can put it between the grams and chocolate. The whole ordeal taking far longer than I would have liked, but soon she is properly sticky and her face covered in marshmallow and chocolate. 

The sugar high setting in has her running over to where she had left her new drawing set. Sticky hands grabbing it, she makes her way back to Clarke and sit on the ground before her mother. Staring up, her little head tilts left and right. Her eyes studying the blond who is so focused on her own page that she doesn’t seem to notice. 

But I do. 

I watch as Jackie picks up a similar pencil to the one her mom holds and begins to trace it over the page. The somewhat oval shape is off center and awkward, but she adds eyes that are comically big. Her pencil swirls out from the head and then  around the figure’s head. I realize that crude depiction is meant to be Clarke, and that neither of them have noticed that they are drawing each other.

I could disturb them, but instead I just sit back and enjoy the way that they are so mesmerized by each other. 

~~~~~

Settled for the night as Jacky lightly snores in her corner of the tent, blanky and plushy securely in her hold, I feel Clarke’s mind whirling around and I tighten my hold on her waist instinctively, letting her know that I’m here. I feel her breathe in and out, heart beating quicker than it should at rest.

The moon casts a soft silvery light through the top of the tent over her golden wavy hair, making a ghostly shine, giving me the urge to leave her waist to brush her hair. I compromise with settle my head closer in the crook of her neck and breathing her in. That’s when I hear her sigh both out of contentment and heavy heart. 

I look over her head at the tiny body bundled warmly in a sleeping bag and can almost hear Clarke’s thoughts. Realizing that I am experiencing the opposing sense of loss, and I wonder if my mother ever cared to wonder about me. Cared to consider that she doesn’t have me. I want to be there for her, and I’m about to ask her what’s on her mind when she turns in my arms and nuzzles my chest, burying her face against my breast.

“What if this is all a mistake?”

The words like a knife in the chest, as my mind reals for if she means that marrying me is a mistake or if camping is a mistake or if sharing a tent with Jacky is a mistake. My mind so focused on the concept of me and her that I forget everything else going on. 

I forget until she says, “What if Abby is the best mother for her?”

It’s probably bad, but I let out a breath of relief. This isn’t about the us, and she is not still mad at me. And she’s upset but all I can feel is better that this is not about me. 

Her eyes are up at me, and at least she seems to have missed my relief at her anguish being towards Abby rather than me. “What if taking Jacky from Abby will do more bad than good? What if wanting her with me is selfish and I mess her up?”

She’s asking questions faster than I can answer, and truthfully I don’t have answers for her. So I try something else. I try to tell her a story. 

“My mom is bipolar,” and I realize that maybe that wasn’t where I should start, but it’s where I start. So I continue. “My whole life she was either locked in her room, or spending a brief few moments with me… and I realized the other day that I am still always wondering if she misses me. Wondering if she gives a damn, or if she even remembers me.”

She is quiet and listening, and I take a breath. Trying to fight my racing heart. Trying to ease the fear of confession. I’ve never told anyone before. Never told even Anya that I still miss her. That I wish she would come to my game. Fuck, I would wish for just a phone call. 

But I can’t just stop now. 

“You’re doing something that my mom will never do. You’re fighting for her. You’re making her know that you love her and you didn’t abandon her,” I say. “I still wish for her phone call. I still wish for her to be there. And I’ll never have that… but Jacky will. Jacky will because you are strong and beautiful and a good mother.”

She lets out a breath of hot air and I realize she has been holding it all in. Her fingers tracing over my jaw, and she leans up to press a gentle kiss to my lips. I hold her to me, because I don’t ever want to let her go, but I have to. 

She leans back and I tell her, “She spent all evening drawing you. She spent her time watching every move you made so she could be just like.” And I continue my list of observations, “That kid tries to emulate you in every way. She even chose to open your present first because it was from you. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy but that kid wants to be with you. And when she grows up, she won’t be like me. She won’t wonder if you love her.”   
Clarke doesn’t have a chance to respond, because the child off to the side lets out a whine. We quiet, and personally I am hoping that Jacky did not hear any of our conversation. 

My future wife grunts though as her daughter uses her knees and elbows crawling over her mother and flopping down between us. Her little shoulder crushing my tit in a way I didn’t think was possible. The kid steals my warm spot against Clarke but I can’t deny her when she grabs my arm to put it over them both. Looking over at Clarke, I mouth to her, “I told you so,” and I can’t help the knowing smirk that plays across my lips. I lean down and kiss both my princesses on their forehead before settling in as the heaviness of the day layers over me like a warm blanket and I fall to sleep to the subtle sounds of both blondes in my arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has been a while. Low did pretty much all the work on this chapter, and the parts that I wrote really she wrote while I dictated because I fucked up my wrists with all the updates this last year. Also today is actually my one year anniversary as a member of the AO3 family. Thank you all sooo much, and Lowiiie made sure there was no angst in this chapter so be sure to thank her!  
> -Luxi


	44. Sisters and Aunties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long leave. We both had a lot of stuff to take care of.

**~Clarke~**   


We barely make it to bedroom and fall onto the bed, not bothering to undress ourselves apart from our shoes we discarded on the way after having ditched the bags by the couch. I never imagined I would be so tired from a weekend of camping. Though, the last time I did I was much younger and I didn’t have a kid and a grown version of one to deal with.

A part of my mind refused to turn off though. The part still reeling from the discussion we hadn’t finished. My mind going over how the rest of the weekend rolled by fairly quickly without further disagreement. 

The pokes of an eager little girl, way too early for a Sunday, waking us in the chilled November air. Her fingers jabbed me in the cheeks while her sleep breath practically suffocated me. Lexa received the same treatment, but she rose from the hard ground much easier than me. Sleeping on an ice cold air mattress was not as fun as I had remembered. 

The short easy trail we walked along, enjoying the mild heat of late morning. A last family moment of soft laughter, wide eyes from both my girls as they gawked at a spider with too much hair and too big for my comfort. That was the end of the hike for me, and we headed back where we packed the car, well Lexa packed the car after she decided my idea of order and space saving wasn’t up to her standards. I’m not sure if it was to prove her superiority over packing abilities, but I got her back with the folding of the tent I had to undo after she took a shot at it. The way Lexa pouted, when Jackie pointed and laughed at me doing it so easily. 

We drove away after a light lunch. Jackie’s tummy full and the lull of Lexa’s smooth driving had my child asleep clutching her blanky and plushy. I watched her sleep with her sketch book under her head, and gun strapped to her hip. 

Lexa was quiet most of the trip, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Like she was okay, and I was okay. And I think that in those moments I was. I was okay, until I had to promise my beautiful daughter we’d see her soon. Pretend to be strong because she was coming home, but the tears of her wanting me to stay and even begging Lexa not to go were overwhelming. Abby smiled though as she took the pink gun and told my baby they would set up a target and practice so she can beat Lexa when we see her on Wednesday. 

Wednesday. A gift from Abby to me. 

The argument, or was it really just a misunderstanding, was nothing compared to the promise of Wednesday. My body felt so heavy as I succumb the comfort of Lexa’s arms. Mind finding rest, as did my eyes. 

~~~~~

“No. no. no,” I yell at the car. Hitting the steering wheel with the butt of my palm. The engine groans, but does not turn over and this cannot get any worse. The first time I get to pick Jackie up from school and the mother fucking car won’t start and Lexa has already left to meet Emori and Tris at the park. 

Picking up the phone, I dial Lexa first. She doesn’t answer though. Probably can’t hear the phone over Emori’s bass. I try again, but the phone just rings and rings and rings. Just like my car just grinds as I hold the key forward hoping that maybe, just maybe this piece of shit will work for once. Just fucking once for me in my moment of need. 

It doesn’t though. 

Not sure what else to do I pick up the phone and dial the next most recent of calls: Raven. The ring is frustrating to say the least, especially after Lexa didn’t answer.

“ _ Hello!”  _ calls from the other end of the line and the voice is far too chipper to be Raven. Holding the phone back, I checked to make sure that I did in fact dial Raven. I did.

Losing all manners, I say, “Who the fuck is this?”

There’s quiet on the other end of the line.  _ Did this bitch hang up on me? _

_ “Griffin, you have quite the potty mouth,” _ and the voice becomes clear as my sister’s laughter is echoing in the background to the younger voice that can be no one other than Octavia. 

Sighing in irritation, I say, “Lemme talk to Raven, O.”

_ “I am too young to die. I need to at least make it to graduation,”  _ she says, and I feel the heat rising in my face as I get out of my car.

I’m about to yell at Octavia again but there was a fumbling on the other end of the line,  _ “Princess, what’s wrong?” _

_ “You call her princess!?” _ Octavia asked, and then followed with,  _ “Isn’t she too old to be a princess…” _ because today couldn’t any worse. The smack sounds through the phone just before, “ _ You’re a teacher! You can’t slug me!” _

_ “You wanted to be a sister; you can’t pull the student card, douche,”  _ Raven answered. Her attention redirected to me, and she answered her own question.  _ “Your car is a piece of shit. Where do you need to go?” _

The smile can’t be helped. Raven knows me so well, she knows if I call out of the blue during a weekday is mainly because of three things - relationship problems, Abby problems, or my car. Since the formers are running smoothly for now, it wasn’t hard for her to deduce it, besides my car is the only reason I’ve called her most at awkward times lately. One day I swear she’s going to block my number just so she wouldn’t have to approach it anymore. I sigh as I get to the point, “I have to pick Jackie up from school and meet Lexa at a park.”

“ _ I’ll be there in 15 _ .”

“You’re a lifesaver. I don’t know-”

“ _ Save it. One day I’ll torch your car... and I want to see the little grasshopper _ .” The line goes dead before I could respond.

Pulling myself from the crumbling car, I look it over and consider if maybe I should talk with Lexa about using part of the restitution to buy a new car that is more reliable and maybe doesn’t smell like old grease and hidden historic french fries. 

I’m still staring at the car, when Raven arrives more like five minutes later than fifteen. 

The bass is pounding, and I can hear Octavia singing along, if one can consider off key yelling singing, from down the road. As the tires crunch against the gravel, O’s jeans are visible through the windshield and Raven is pushing at the girl trying to climb into the back seat. 

I cover my mouth trying hard not to laugh but the struggle is real. Raven hates feet on her seats, but getting an ass bump from Octavia on purpose as she climbs in the back sets her irritation to a whole new level if her red face is anything to go by. 

“It’s just a truck Rae.”

“Shut up Pocahontas or I throw you out,” Raven threatened, and I stop for a second to consider how it is that O ended up in Raven’s car as it was. I don’t even have the time to ask when Raven’s glare is turned on me, “Are you gonna get in or what?” “Jeez Rae what did she do to you?” Octavia asked from the backseat. Her arms holding her up in the center like a little kid. I smile at the sight and the freedom in which she smile at what seems to be everything. 

“You mean aside from playing babysitter when I had plans?” Raven stated, but there is a hint of a smile at the edges of her mouth. I smile back and throw my purse at Octavia who catches it before it hits her in the head, cringing as I remember the snacks I put in and surely will end up crushed. 

The truck is high so it takes more effort than I would like to get into the passenger’s seat. I huff as I pull myself belly first up the seat and then crawl in, making certain to hit every surface possible with my boots. With a quick glance over, I know that Raven is getting annoyed with me, so I try to break the ice, “What’s wrong the big badass not get any this weekend?”

There’s no answer, but the sound of the car being thrown into gear and Octavia’s body hitting the back seat with a grunt of displeasure escaping her lips. 

Filtered air overwhelms me, and I don’t understand why Raven insists on running the AC when it is in the 70s outsides. Glancing over at her, dark eyes roll and the volume to the stereo is lowered. 

“You live in a field. I don’t want the dust inside,” she states like my thoughts are popping up in thought bubbles over my head. 

“It’s a truck, it’s bound to get dirty,” chimes Octavia like it is her personal mission to fuck with Raven’s and her truck today.

Shaking my head, I just have to smile and go with their crazy today. I mean, I clearly interrupted their thing, which begins to get awkward by the moment. “Talking about dirty, how are you and Lincoln? Do you want to tell Clarke or should I?” 

I turn back to see Octavia glaring at Raven, and her fist come out, connecting with Raven’s thin shoulder, “What a sister you are!” 

“What did I miss?” I ask, though I’m not positive that I actually want an answer. 

Octavia’s eyes focus on me, and she quickly and innocently says, “Nothing. But there’s this thing with Marcus…”

Holding up my hand, I say, “Don’t change the subject O.” Then I consider for less than a second, my eyes squinted at her, “Wait what about Marcus?”

“Oh, you’re gonna love it,” her eyes lighting up at having something clearly juicy to share. With a slight bounce, she says, “Marcus has a date today!”

My head twists and I see a smug expression on Raven’s face as Octavia continues, “I caught him on the phone. Dunno who it is but it looks serious, he used that cologne Murphy got him for Father’s day, the one he reserves for big occasions, like board meetings, or whenever there’s a court hearing, or like when Dr. Griffin comes to the school.”

My nose scrunches, and I shake my head, “That shit makes him smell like an old folks home. We need to get him something new for christmas this year.”

“Yeah. I wonder if his date is going to like him smelling like a grandpa.”

“Well, technically he’s a grandpa with that one.” Raven says as she points her thumb at me, deliberately hitting my cheek but only missing my eye by an inch. “Talking about grandpa, how come Abby’s lettin’ you have Jackie so soon after your weekend away? I thought she wanted to go slow.” She withdraws her thumb before I bite it. Her face serious as she studies me instead of the damn road.

I shrug and try not to be bothered that Abby still has to give me permission to see Jacky. “She said she had to go somewhere.” My fingers fiddle with the hole in my knee while I confess, “Honestly I didn’t ask. I get to see my daughter, so she could go to fucking Pluto for all I care.”

“Uranus is technically farther away at this point in time,” Octavia tosses in so seriously, I practically pull a muscle looking back at her. 

“Did you just make a dirty joke O?” She doesn’t move more than to glance at Raven, so I turn to the shit stirrer.  “Raven, is that your doing?” I ask, turning my head between the two of them.

Octavia’s mouth drops open, and laughter falls from mine. I know she was talking some science crap, but seriously the girl still owes me the dirty talk that she had had with Raven. 

“I… No… I just…” and the blundering does nothing but makes me laugh harder. 

The truck takes a sharp corner. “Relax kid, she’s messing with you.” 

Octavia continues to stare at me, so I turn completely into my seat, knowing we don’t have much longer before we arrive at Jackie’s school. “Now tell me about the dirty, and do I need to get you condoms or birth control or a knife to castrate that boy with.”

Octavia’s blubbering doesn't end this the story, doesn't come before the lines and lines of children exiting the main court of the elementary school. Holding up my hand, Octavia sighs and I feel like she is far too relieved for the conversation to end, so I twist in the seat just before Raven pulls to a stop and point at the teen. My index finger poking her in the cheek, I tap her harshly, “This is far from over.”

When I turn around, Raven taps the brakes and the belt tightens around me. Locking my momentum painfully in place. Skin scraping against the belt and a light scratch developing over my neck. My hand comes up to sooth away the burn. “Drive much, douche?” I growl.

Raven smirks, “More than you do.” A decision settles in me to swallow my pride and talk to my future wife about my lack of transportation. 

My mind refocuses though as a little blonde head bobs up and down from the other children. Her hand waves back and forth as she grins broadly. “Momma! Auntie!” little lips mouth, but there is really only a loud garbled nonsense coming from the large amount of kindergarteners. 

I open the door and slide down the seat. I am barely turned around when Jacky is already jumping in my arms. “Momma! You came to see me!” she announces, and then her head peaks around me and I hear, “Auntie Raven! You came too?”

“Of course I came too, bug!” Raven tells her.

Octavia throws open the back door and hops down from the car. Jacky’s head tilts and she examines the young stranger before her. With a slight pout to her lip she turns her head into my neck. “Who’s she?”

Smoothing her hair, I get her to sit back up. Gesturing slightly to Octavia, I tell her, “This is my little sister, Octavia.”

Jacky frowns at me, and she looks at O and then back at me. “You have a sister you didn’t tell me about?”

I smile, and shake my head left to right. “She’s a new sister, Jack.” 

“Where’s my uncle?”

I look over at Raven, who rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’ll call doofus. You get the kid in the seat.” The cars are moving around us, and I realize we are holding up the student pick-up line. I put her down and point up to the truck. “Get in, Munchkin.”

Jacky is still studying O though. Judging if she is someone to like or not, while I try to get her in the back seat of the truck. She’s not moving though. Her arms coming up over her chest, and shoulders back while her head tilts at an uncomfortable angle backwards looking up at the teenager with narrow eyes. “Are you sure you’re my auntie?”

Octavia looks from me to the kid, and back to me. She nods slowly, not sure how to handle a five year old’s interrogation.

“Being an auntie is surrius business,” the kid says, her hand coming out and pointing up and down at Octavia. “You have to give piggyback rides when I say. And I like candy. Lots of candy.”

“No, candy,” I answer with a shake of my hand.

“Ice cream also is a must. I like the rainbow one, and chocolate sprinkles and marshmallow on top and it needs to in a cake bowl. No cup.”

“I’m getting cavities just listening to this order,” Raven says, but Octavia is nodding with a smile, and holds out her hand to shake. Jacky just still squints at her though.

Jacky shakes her head and states, “We’re not done yet.”

Octavia looks up, and hisses, “She’s kinda scary. I just gotta say yes at this point.” Looking at me, O’s eyes widen, “She has a teacher look and she’s like three.”

“I’M FIVE!” Jacky says, her hands tightening around her chest. “I’m not a baby. Three is baby. I’m a big girl!”

“Dude, you done fucked this one up,” Raven answers.

“Language!” I call.

“‘Cause you have so much room to talk, Princess,” and I hate that fucking name. 

I try to usher Jacky into the car, but she is still staring down the teen that is more uncomfortable by the second. I turn to Octavia and tell her, “Stop trying to make deals with the kid. You will always lose. Also this is why you need to use b-i-r-t-h-c-o-n-t-r-o-l. Learn now or you will be making deals for a lifetime.”

A car honks from behind us, and I wave to the other driver. Picking up my still grumpy kid, I put her in the backseat. “No sugar deals with the teenager. You know Grandma will not be okay with you having that much ice cream.” 

Jacky stands still in the backseat, and is still not getting in her seat. Her eyes still staring at Octavia that is waiting to get in the car. I’m start to lose my patience with her as I tug on the backpack that won’t come lose, “Jacqueline Griffin, get in the damn chair.”

“Oooo,” Octavia laughs from behind me, “You said a bad word, Griffin.”

Raven chimes in from the front, “Yeah, Princess, watch your mouth.” Her phone is to her ear, and she isn’t actually looking at me but at my kid who is fussing with her backpack that is practically as big as she is. “Jack,” and the little girl looks up at her, “Drop your bag, and put your butt in the seat so your momma can fasten you. We are going to the park to see Lexa and her friends.”

Jacky pulls her pack off, and slides up into her chair, as the inferiority fills me again. The way Raven, like Lexa, can just get her to listen, while I fight with her almost every step. I clip the belt around her, and move to let Octavia in. When I’m in the front, I grab the phone from Raven. Her mouth wide and gawking at me. “Just drive,” I tell her, then hear another honk sound and Murphy whining on the other end of the line. 

“Rude, Princess.”

I roll my eyes so hard they kind of hurt, and say, “Hey, John.” I don’t really hear his response as Raven pulls out from the curb because Octavia is telling Jacky in the backseat, “I am not sure if I have seen the Frozen Castle you are talking about but I will look for it. I dunno if I can make that happen for Christmas. You should try asking Santa.”

Jacky’s little voices says, “No, I gotta ask him for the good stuff.” I wonder what is the good stuff for a five year old, but John’s still talking and I realize I need to tell Raven where we are going. 

“Meet us at the park on 83rd Ave between Glendale and Bethany Home,” and I nod to Raven that is where we need to meet Lexa at. 

~~~~~

Pulling into the park, it’s like a car show. The lot filled with Lexa and her friends’ over priced cars and trucks. Lexa walks around her sports car, and I can tell she is examining the paint. Trading cars may have been a bad idea with my future wife’s obsession over the car. 

Lexa stalls in one stop and is touching the passenger’s side door. She rubs it for a moment, and then her chin shoots up with narrow eyes. “There’s a scratch. Right. Here. Emori!”

The taller girl wanders over, and looks at where Lexa is touching. She leans in closer, and then stands back up. She is rolling her eyes just as we are getting out of the car. 

I see someone I didn’t expect though come up behind the two basketball players. Anya’s proximity to Lexa’s back makes me uncomfortable, but I am helping Jacky out of her seat and down from Raven’s truck. Once she’s on the ground, I hear Lexa yelling, “Is that a fucking cum stain on my seat?!” 

My head shouts up as my hands come over my daughter’s ears, and I look to where they all stand. Lexa gesturing to the now open door of the car, and Emori and Tris clinging on to each other like they may break out into another fuck right there just to piss Lexa off further.  _ Well shit! So much for a fun day at the park.  _

Jacky pulls on my wrist though, and her blue eyes search me for answer as she asks, “Momma, are we really little or are all thems giants?”


	45. Face to face on the court

Raven’s truck announces its arrival, and I glance up seeing Clarke slide down from the front seat. Confusion sets in because I don’t remember the plan including Clarke’s sister, or sisters, since Octavia is hopping out from the backseat.

I look back down at the door to my baby. The chip in the paint is small, but is present. A chip in the paint that was never there before, and after one fucking weekend Emori managed to ding the paint. 

My finger taps the spot, and I growl at her, “There’s a scratch. Right. Here. Emori!”

Looking back at my friend and teammate, I search for remorse. Her face just stoically stares back at me, because there is none. Not even a smidge. “You don’t even care that you scratched my baby!” 

Anya smiles like this is the best part of her day. Like my baby being scratched is some form of sweet justice or something. Her smile only growing as Emori defends, “Please, you don’t know that came from me having it. It was probably already there, drama queen.”

“I’m sure she does know,” Anya chimes in. “She kisses that fucking car good night every fucking night. She even has a special cover that she tucks it in every night like a child, while it is parked in the garage.” She laughs as kicks me under a fucking bus.

I glance back to where Clarke and her family are approaching, and I see the fucking smirk growing across the blonde’s face. She hasn’t actually caught me kissing the car... yet. I mean, I have tried really fucking hard to keep her from seeing it. I shake my head at her, but she just winks at me.  _ Damn it, she knows about the goodnight love.  _

Looking back at Anya, I practically spit, “Shut up, asshole.”

Of course no one shuts up though. No, they are all too busy laughing at me. When I look back at Raven’s truck, I see the girl running her hand over the bumper almost erotically, but it’s just part of the joke as she starts dry humping the fender and crying out, “Oh right there, babe.”

Shaking my I head, I turn back to Anya and toss a thumb in Raven’s directions, “Clearly, you have good taste in women.”

Anya’s eyes squint at me, before she says far more confident than I feel can be real, “She’s fucking around, unlike you, who would fuck the car given a chance.”

I hold her stare, unwilling to give her this one. “I would not fuck my car. Just in it, on it-”

“Yeah, like that time you had that chick screaming your name outside the bar,” Tris added, trying to help me out. Trying to help but not realizing that she is talking about the night that we went to Echo’s, and the girl was Costia, or that it was the night I got in the fight with Echo, or that it was the night that I assaulted Clarke, or that… but Tris realizes her mistake as Anya’s eyes harden and Clarke freezes. 

I need a change of subject. Especially since Clarke is almost here. I throw open the door and begin looking for any interior damage. As I glance over the seat, I see it. 

The black seat marred with the awkward splotch making the fabric grey. Reaching out, I’m about to scratch at the stain but something in me has me stalling. Maybe it’s the position on the chair or the color, but  _ it can’t be.  _

Turning back to Emori, her tongue down Tris’ throat and hands pulling her in closer, I start but I turn back to the spot. There is no way they would do  _ that _ and leave it there for me. For Clarke to sit on. But Emori’s eyes are shining as I look back at her. 

“That’s not…” but Clarke is getting closer with our kid. 

Emori smiles though, “What are you talking about, Lexi the Car Kisser?”

Brows furrowing, I ask with little volume but as much force as possible, “Is that a fucking cum stain on my seat?!” 

I am expecting a denial, or an apology at least. I get neither. What I get is, Emori’s infamous eye roll, and the words “Oh please! Since when you’re such a prude? How many times did you wash the seats after your hit and quits?” She held her hand up, and the other held Tris’ ass through her back pocket, “We actually kept it quite clean for the amount of sex we had in it.” 

I search the sky for patience, and find none. I can’t look back at Clarke because I will see her with our kid and I can hear her in my head about  _ language _ , but I yell anyways, “I gave you my baby for one fucking weekend!!” 

Tris chuckles, and her legs come up to lock about Emori as she runs her center over the other girl, “Exactly, one weekend of fucking!” 

Anya is throwing the ball then, and it hits Tris in the ass hard, dropping her leg, and pulling Emori’s hand from the back of her shorts. “Just shut up,” my ex growls as Clarke comes around the Telsa with Jacky and Octavia. 

The little girl drops both the girls’ hands as she runs to me. Her small body launching into my arms, where I pull her up into the air and toss her to the sky. When I have her in my arms, I glare daggers into Emori and tell her, “I’m gonna end you on that court.”

“I wanna play like a giant!” Jacky announces.

I’m almost blinded by the kid’s sparkling smile when I overhear, “Good thing she didn’t look in the trunk.” I whirl around throwing a glare to whomever spoke but I only catch expertly masked facades of innocence. I’m about to yell at them, but I catch the stoic stare that Anya is giving me and Jacky, and I consider how much has really changed in the last year. I mean, really less than a year. This time last year, Anya and I actually had a fight over whether we would ever have children someday. 

_ “I’m not saying now, but maybe someday, An.” _

_ Her dark eyes stared into me, and small spit flew out of her lips, “Would you give up your career to grow an alien that would never even be mine.” _

_ Coldness surrounded the region around me as I began to accept the decisions I made by marrying Anya. The reality that she would never want the things that maybe I might want.  _

_ No, I didn’t want it.  _

_ No, I couldn’t want it.  _

_ My world twisting on its axis as I submitted to her eyes first. Then her hands that held my face up to her, even though, I didn’t look at her. Then her lips that took mine as she reminded me that she loved me, and we were enough. _

We weren’t enough though. Staring back her, I wonder if she is reflecting on that conversation. If she wonders if maybe that was one of the many moments that took us down a path of relationship destruction.  

Anya doesn’t say a word. Her body turning from me and my daugher to the little girl’s aunt that is coming up alongside of her. Her large hand clasping around Raven’s hip and asserting a dominance as the other girl brushes away. Moving out for the harsh grip and taking her own control with a hand to the back of Anya’s neck and pulling my ex downward to brush her lips over the chiseled cheekbone and then whisper something I can’t hear, but only witness. 

The two seem lost in their own moment, when Clarke pulls me from mine as she takes Jacky from me. I struggle with releasing for her a moment, not wanting to give her up in fear she will no longer be my reality. 

“Come on, runt,” Clarke tells her. Setting her on the ground and guiding her towards the play area that is nearby the court. Octavia and Raven follow muttering under their breath, but I still hear bits of their conversation.

Watching them go, I listen intently while Octavia  “So wait, Lexa fucked Anya’s sister? That’s just wrong.” There’s a moment of just their steps, then Octavia continued, “How did Griffin just let it go. Like the fact that Lexa used to be a slut.”

“Enough!” Clarke says, shooting around to glare at the other two girls. Face getting red, she stares into the other two girls as Jacky races to the stairs of the slide. “You know I wasn’t a fucking angel most of my life. I’m sure I have fucked more people than she did in those few months.” I’m not sure why but my chest is filling with pride for having Clarke as mine. After all she could realize that I am not worth her or her time, but it’s never like that. She never makes me feel ashamed of who I was. A hollowness fills me though as a familiar touch holds me just at the base of my back. The hand that caused me so much pain, and yet taught me so much. The hand of the woman that I accused Clarke of being a whore with.

“She’s something else,” Anya states. 

Turning to face her, I consider how we navigate from here. I want to tell her I know about the money, but I’m not sure if it is my place. “She texted me earlier about the money. I almost turned Em down because I don’t want it to be awkward.”

My head falls. The cement under my size 11 shoes contrasting mutely. Smooth and just steady. “I fucked up,” I tell her. “I accused her… I actually thought that she… when she said you.”

It’s quiet, and when I look up the anger in Anya’s eyes is fiercer than I ever thought possible. A fire so complete that I worry she may fuck up my face. Spit flies from her lips as she gets that much closer, and I know now that I didn’t just fuck up with Clarke. I fucked this up even more. “You are a fucking piece of shit, you know that. That girl…” she starts but she pauses. Her head falling back as she breathes out. Her eyes don’t meet mine again though I can still feel her anger. The energy buzzing around me, prickling my skin. “She deserves better than you, Lexa. You are insecure and you make people hurt because of your fears. At times I think you are just like your fucking parents.” 

Her eyes snap back to me, the hint of tears barely present, but she doesn’t let up. “I’m not the one that fucked every bitch that offered me her pussy. That was you. I didn’t fuck any of your family members to hurt you, or even worse use them for your pleasure. Yes, I am a fucking dom, but I always took care of you. Always was there for you, and you know what, I can’t wait for this game. You’re finally going to get what you deserve.”

The ball that she had held is thrust into my chest, knocking the air that remained in my lungs after her lashing out. “Court. Now.”

My feet follow so willingly. So easily, as though it were old times. Her words like a leash around the collar she had fixed. Body entering the court still holding the ball that is quickly stripped from my arms and checked against me. Anya picking up the ball on the bounce off my chest and hitting me hard in the shoulder as she drives past me and around Tris. 

Tris’ arms come up as she whines, “You better play better than that Trikru, or I swear I’ll whoop your ass.” She takes the ball that falls through the hoop too easily. Anya’s hands meeting Emori’s as they congratulate each other. Her hand slams me in the shoulder as she pushes me towards the line, “Who takes the cock is on this game and I want to hear Em scream my name as we re-break in the escalade.” I watch her circle her hips as though the strap is already attached and smile proud. Clearly she missed the tension on the court and a part of me wishes I could live like Tris. So carefree.

I check the ball then Anya, and as I pick up the dribble to the left, Anya’s body presses against mine. The closeness familiar and distracting. Distracting enough that she strips the ball from me mid bounce and my face catches her elbow as she pulls the ball up, sending a hard pass to Emori that shoots with one hand and picks up Tris with her other once the ball is free and falling through the hoop.

Anya’s voice is wind broken, but she spits out, “I thought I married the best in the league, but you’re playing like a rookie from the street.” My hand comes up to touch my lips and there is the smallest hint of blood. My lip aching from colliding with my teeth. 

Tris is smacking Emori in the chest. Her angry green eyes shooting back at me. “You are killing me, smalls! You’re fucking killing me.” She retrieves the ball and passes it to me. “Get your fucking head in the game!” She’s getting angry with me. Anya is angry with me. Emori fucked up my car, and there is just too much. Too fucking much.

> The hardest thing about parenting is to remember that the kid is always around to hear. Always there to see. Always there to witness and internalize every word or action that they shouldn’t. 

Taking the ball toward half court, I chest pass the ball to Anya hard. Her hands catching it, and angry firing back at me as she says, “Oh so now the little bitch wants to play.”

I get an equally hard pass back and I start my dribble. Crossing over, a fake to the left before I head right. She is with me though. Her feet moving just as quickly. Her body shifting and following me. My elbow coming up, arm out. I guard the ball like it is my life. 

Her taunting trying to slice through my focus. “You think you can beat me. I fucking trained you. I trained you like a fucking dog. I bet you would lick my fucking shoes if I told you to, since I know you were so well trained you couldn’t lick any of your bitches’ cunts.”

I turn sharply. My arm hitting her in the chest as I push her out of the way with my ass. A quick jump and the three point shot lands with ease. 

There’s not a second to process because Anya is checking the ball off of me and she is taking off towards the basket. I am on her though. My body between hers. Chest hard as I hiss at her, “I didn’t have to lick them. They were just a distraction. Just like fucking your sister.”

Anya jumps and the shot is off, but neither of us chase after the ball. Both toe to toe. Face to face. Air colliding as we stare each other down, just waiting from the other to throw the first punch. The punch that would give me the chance to prove that there is still fight in me. 

She doesn’t move though, so I dig in. Pulling out the sharpest words I can find, “And every time I fucked her in our bed, I thought about you. I thought about how I could do this. I could fuck her with my dick and have her begging for me because you taught me how to not feel, your cold fucking bitch.”

Anya growls, “I may be cold, Lexa, but at least my family loves me. At least I know who I am. You’re all fucking alone. You’ll always be alone because that woman is going to realize the whore you are. She’s going to learn that you will try to stay but you will just run away when shit gets hard.” The figurative blade lodges in my chest, and air is leaking from my lungs. “You’re a coward and you run away. You’ll never be worth her or that kid.”

I can’t fight back. My shoulders already beginning to fall, but the blade twists as little footsteps hit the concrete and a small weight hits my legs. I look down to see a tiny heart shaped face looking up at me. Her blue eyes glassy as she begs, “Please don’t leave me.”

There are a million ways for a heart to break, but I understand how hard saying goodbye is for Clarke each time she has to. Each time she has to look into the child’s doe eyes and promise her that she is loved. Promise her that there will be a day without goodbyes. 

I glance at Anya. Her face falling to the child. A realization there and then I follow her gaze shifting. The Kane Kru all staring at us. Clarke’s hardened face, the mask of strength. I can feel the pain of the moment though. Another understanding that she thinks I may leave her. And worse the knowledge within me that I am planning to leave for months. 

I lean down and hold the tiny face in my hands. Rough dirty hands come up to wipe away her tears, but spreading dark streaking from her nose to her temples. Her tiny war paint making her look fierce for a five year old. “Jacky, I am not going to leave. I promised to marry you and your momma. I don’t break my promises,” but as the words come out all I can do is pray that Anya won’t call bullshit.

> I should have known better than to promise not to leave. Especially when I knew I was planning on leaving. That I would have to face this little calling me a “liar!” and a “promise breaker!” 

She doesn’t though. Her hard frame kneeling next to me and her hand coming up to my shoulder, “She tells you truth, child. Lexa loves you much.”

Jacky looks at her. Head tilting in her thinking face. The same way Clarke thinks when she is faced with something new, something she doesn’t know to trust. Little pouty lips purse, and she finally reaches out to touch Anya’s chiseled cheekbone. Her fingers grazing the sharp edge as she says, “You’re really pretty.”

There is a moment of silence, as we all wait for Anya’s response. Her hand moves from my back though to Jacky’s little leg. The small jeans torn at the knee, and Anya moves us all forward. “What happened to your leg?”

Jacky looks down to where Anya’s hand is, then back to Clarke. Her mind remembering something, and more tears beginning to fall. “I fell off the monkey bars. The boy behind me was big and he said I was moving slow and he pushed me.”

My head instantly shoots up to the play area. Searching for the little bastard that hurt my baby. My attention is pulled back to the moment by Anya’s voice again. Her steady instructions, “You need not worry. Your momma and Lexa will teach you about fighting. It is good to fall down. It’s how you learn to get back up.”

The gentleness in her voice makes me wonder why Anya never wants children. Her wisdom and kindness towards them always is astounding compared to the harshness that she faces the rest of the world with. And I feel like shit. She has every right to be angry with me, and all I did was try to hurt her more. I slashed at the woman I promised to protect and cherish with worded weapons. 

“I’m sorry,” I say to her but she doesn’t acknowledge me. 

Her eyes still on the child before her that blinks back her tears. With a little tremble of her lower lips she asks, “Can I play too?”

Anya’s face turns to the other girls behind us. Their arms still grossly wrapped around each other, but Tris releases her fuck buddy and comes to pick up Jacky. The little arms stretching up when she realizes that she is going to be lifted again.

“Whose team do you wanna be on?”

Jacky holds her hands out to me, requesting to be taken from Tris. “Lexa Fucking Trikru!” she announces, bringing a few muffled giggles and a few gasps of shock. 

Tris is the first to scoff, pulling the kid away from me. “Jeez Lex, what did you do to her kid?” 

Clarke approaches. Her arms wrapping around me. The sweat clinging to the fabric that has her grimacing a little. She answers though, “Yeah Lex, I wonder why my daughter swears like you.” 

I’m about to defend myself, when Raven’s sass cuts in though, “Oh please princess, between you and Ms. Free Throw, it’s a tie!” Raven takes the ball from Emori and awkwardly dribbles to the free throw line. Her brace squeaking some as she moves. Her body lines up the shot though and lets it go. Ball hitting within the square and bouncing into the net for a simple shot. “Speaking of free throws though, Lexa, can we discuss you 65% average from the free throw line. I mean it’s a free shot?”

My face flushes and I look to Emori that is laughing. Hand over her mouth because the exact same shit comes out of her mouth regularly. 

Anya cuts in though, “She thinks she’s too amazing to practice them.”

I glare at her and take my kid from Tris. Clarke moves away from us and get the rebound. Landing a little shot off the backboard. Her teacher voice in play as she says, “You see, Lex, it’s about the backboard. Any idiot can make a shot if they use the backboard.”

My jaw drops as I hear my wife-to-be trying to school me. ME! Lexa fucking Trikru on how to shoot a ball. 

Flustered, I challenge her, “Wanna put your money where your mouth is?” 

Turning back to me with the ball, she looks over me and then Jacky that is staring at me too. I must not know something that is clear to even the five year old. The kid leans forward though and her lips are close to my ear as she says, “momma’s really good at basketball.”

I smile at her. My hand hold her head, as I reassure her that so am I.

> Clarke is REALLY good at basketball. Like for a hobbit sized player the girl has moves… moves that cost me.

“If I win you quit kissing your car goodnight,” Clarke says. She moves with small awkward dribble that she is struggling to control. 

_ This will be easy. _

“If I win, you have to learn how to do the dishes properly,” I counter. 

She laughs and winks at Raven. Raven who is moving to off the court laughing. I feel like I am missing something, but Clarke asks, “Is that all?”

I glance around and then hold Jacky’s face to my chest. My other hand covering the exposed tiny ear. “I can’t just say with the child in my arms, but let’s go with dishes and another word that starts with a ‘d’ that will be mine to control.”

Clarke continues to laugh. She says deal as she approaches the three point line. Her back to the basket. She turns to me, and announces, “I hope you’ve stretched because tonight you’re going to be bent over and I’ll let you kiss that car of yours once more as I take you against it.” 

Without looking Clarke granny throws the ball over her head. The ball bounces off the backboard and sinks with ease. Like she didn’t just make a backwards three pointer and like I am not gawking at her, she chases after the ball and tells me, “Put the kid down and come lose like a woman.”

> And I do lose. Badly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Low and I have been taking vacations. Sorry for the break in schedule. We are trying to get back on track. Love you all and Jayenator and I should have our DC fic up in the next few days. I visited DC and what comes out of it a one shot! 
> 
> As always please leave us comments. We have comments being monitored due to a few douches, but we really love to hear from you all. Love you!
> 
> -Luxi


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're sorry.

~Clarke~

It’s been three days since Lexa lost her kiss good night in the park. With the morning light filtering through the window, I turn to escape the sun’s assault. Lexa’s face only an inch away, I meet the green irises that have clearly been awake for much longer than I have. Her breathing seems to take in all of the fresh air and I’m left with nothing. Groaning, I shove her back a little. The slightest shift gives me the chance to fill my lungs to capacity and heave out a heavy breath right in her face.

“Eww,” she whines. Her face turns into the pillow. She twists just enough to glance at me from the corner of her eye. She’s giving me the stink eye, which makes my chest rumble. 

Biting my lip, I try to hold the laughter inside. The shaking only makes it worse as Lexa’s large frame shifts on the bed. Face buried in the pillow, and the muffled growl she expels causes my resolve to crumble. The whole situation’s hilarious because I know that her frustration is not about the morning breath I just blew in her face. No, she’s still irritated by the shots I hit the other day. 

Her face red and angry as she lost her dribble. The cry to the heavens when I would fake left but dodge right, only to hit the backboard and watch the ball fall through the metal hoop. Probably the worse part for her wasn’t losing to my five foot three frame. The worst part for her was not being able to use a single trick move. 

Lexa didn’t seem to get it. Didn’t understand that I have watched her play since college. That I know when she’s about to drive, she drops her chin and sways her arms overly open. Or that when she’s going to shoot a three, she always steps clockwise, creating a box. I had the advantage and she had little respect. 

So little respect, that when I won, she lost her cool and threw the ball into the grass area from the court. A tantrum worse than any Jackie could throw. Her face beet red. I’m sure that Anya, Em and Tris laughing at her really didn’t help that much, but still. 

She’s been cut off since she lost. I mean, I want to fuck her. I really really want to collect my winnings and take her against the hood of her car. And maybe I would have the day after. However, whiny pouting Lexa is not attractive. Rather she’s annoying to the point at I can’t give her what she wants. Even if it’s making it worse on both of us.  

> So here’s the thing, since we started having sex sex… it’s been like every damn day. Two days between max. Happy sex. Grumpy sex. Morning, afternoon, night time sex. Like it’s how we keep our sanity, and being already bitchy on top of not fucking made it worse. Way worse. Like ABO rip out throats bad. Neither of us was willing to be the omega though. Sure, she calls me an omega. But we all know who makes the rules. 

Rolling away from her, I let my naked body spread across a majority of the bed that I have seemed to conquer throughout the night. Lexa’s body barely on the foot and a half that I allow her, while her feet hang off the bottom edge. My skin pricks with the nipping air, and I don’t have to move much to see painfully perky pink peaks. Laughing just a little, I watch the subtle bounce of each breast with the exaltation of breath. Fingers move over my non-existent abdominal muscles. The feather like touches make my ass pucker as the arousal dripping from me is chilled by the November air.

“Cruel and unusual punishment, Ms. Griffin,” Lexa growls, her pitch black eyes looking over me like I’m the top of breakfast list. Her fingers are digging into the blanket, and I know she’s trying to hold back. Trying to stay within her space. Respecting that she lost the right to touch or make any advances. She lost that with the rest of her pride when, Lexa tried to goad me into playing more hoops so she could win but it ended up in more humiliation for her, well and her saying some dumb shit about her being her and me being a nobody. 

> Exact words were, “I’m Lexa fucking Trikru and you’re just another fan. You must be cheating.” Again she called me cheater. Of course I inserted my sad puppy dog face, trying to hide the extent she actually hurt my feelings. But she didn’t see through her rage. So she kept talking like Lexa does when she adds the fucking to her name. “There’s no way you can actually be good, especially when you’re just an English teacher.” Took everything in me not to throw the ball and break her nose. I still catch Lexa looking at me from the corner of her eye every time I pick up a ball. Like the self-proclaimed master thinks the student suddenly has something to offer. Like she can’t believe someone like me got the best of her. 

With a huff and another shake of laughter, I finally talk to her about the game, “You can’t just trick me. You tried to play a trick focused game, but that’s the thing, babe. You grew up playing to compete. I grew up playing because it was fun and something to do. So I can make the backwards shot, the hook, and other playful tactics that one picks up just from bouncing the ball and tossing it at the hoop.” Lips pursed like a duck, she stares at me. “You underestimated me. All there is to it.” 

I don’t know where it comes from but the words fall out, giving her insight into the real reason she has been left to her own devices. “Plus, you clearly feel that I’m incapable of honesty since everytime I turn around you are accusing me of cheating.”

Head falling back to the pillow, I can tell the frustration is getting to her. Her ass tightens and legs kick just enough to shake me more. She turns suddenly. Body shooting upright and legs fumbling to move within her designated space. “You’re killing me. I know I fucked up and I’m fucking sorry. I’m an asshole, okay?”

Her eyes no longer pits of lust but small creases of sorrow etched into each corner. There’s a rolling of sadness from her, and she waits for me to acknowledge I know she means what she says. And when she’s Lexa, she’s that sweet person that can take responsibility when she has screwed up. 

Then though, I get the reappearance of Lexa fucking Trikru. Fucking Trikru has a way to crush any sense of safety that I develop with her. I love Lexa, and I know that it’s Lexa in front of me right now. But fucking Trikru is somewhere in there. Somewhere she’s there waiting to strike.

My arm comes over my chest. Blocking my nipples from the air, and fucking Trikru’s sight line. There’s much more to say but I don’t know how to say it. The emotions within becoming too much. I can’t seem to shut them off, so I look for something else to turn off.

The visual of the room is making it virtually impossible to think, I decide. I close my eyes to shut everything else out. Her heavy breathing next to me though is just as distracting, and it’s not like I can tell her not to breath. 

“Look, you can’t be Lexa fucking Trikru. Treat me like trash because you’re insecure or jealous. You can’t say ‘I’m an asshole’ and just expect me to be like ‘ok, babe, it’s all great. Here let me bend over and take your Trikru dick’.” That’s really all there is to it. She hurts me when she’s like that. And, I’m not sure she realizes it. 

Her body seems to fold within itself. She’s quiet, and I’m not sure if she’s berating herself or building up her fucking Trikru rage ball. There’s no reaching out because I feel the need to put up my guard, trying to count how many days we have actually known each other. When I reach the total it’s actually scary. It seems like an entire lifetime of events happened in the span of a month and I’m starting to wonder if we might have rushed things too much, especially when Lexa becomes that alter ego that I can’t stand.

> In retrospect, yes, we did rush things. We were engaged, living together, and raising a kid under less than three months. But that’s how we functioned; it never felt wrong, even when we fought, and we fought a lot but we had lots of stuff to go over. We lived in the now, each with too much baggage to understand that we sped through the foundation of building a strong relationship. We put off things we shouldn’t have. At least with time we learned. Sorta. 

“How many times do I have to say that I’m sorry?”

Sighing, I try not to lose my cool. It’s hard though because I’m fucking sick of the sorries. “Do you even know what you are sorry for, Lexa?”  _ God I sound so patronizing right now. Is this what Raven calls the mommy voice? _

“Clarke, please. I’m so…” Lexa tries again. Though I’m not quite sure what I want her to say, I know it’s not another sorry. I roll on my side to face her and take a breath to compose myself a little but I know it won’t help cause the dam is open and I just want to say what I’ve been holding back for some time. The ball game being kind of the last straw.

“I’m over with your sorries. I know we’ll have problems as a couple even after this whole mess is cleaned but in order for us to be okay I can’t be dealing with sweet caring Lexa one minute... and…” I’m not even sure how to tell her, “... and fucking Trikru the next, especially not when Jackie is around.” Waving my hand a little at her, I throw out, “I’m not even sure who I am talking to right now!” My voice is louder and I grip the sheet, pulling it up to cover my body. Lexa folds further around herself. I recognize almost immediately who I am talking to.

_ It’s just tough love. _ I try to defend. I mean, I know that Lexa is it for me; I’ve never felt so strongly for someone before. If I have to resort to tough love to help us move forward from all those things that weigh us down, then I’m ready to put on some big girl pants and do the talking.

Arms wrapped around her bent legs, a woman almost six feet tall practically in a fetal position. The air I fought for earlier is now completely useless as I remember that I don’t need air. I need Lexa to breath. She’s practically disappearing though. Every aspect so vulnerable that I realize no matter how angry I am with her, I can’t be the person that does this to her. This shift into trying to be invisible so easy for her. 

The teacher in me says keep a straight face. I might want to be strong but confronting the holder of my heart and one of my students are completely different beasts. Her long legs brush against my stomach as she impossibly transforms into a ball and I can’t help but reach out to her this time. The tough guy act vanishing.

_ I hate this.  _

I hate that I want to be mad but can’t hold onto my frustration. Besides right now it’s like beating up a puppy. So I reach out, slowly. My stomach churns and tears well up as Lexa recoils so quickly my fingertips barely graze her. Her body practically leaping from the bed. I can’t reach her even if I try.

“Lex-” She cuts me off.

“I’m gonna make breakfast.” Her movements quick. Only her nude back to me before she grabs a pair of basketball shorts and sports bra, and leaves the bedroom naked. Her body through the doorway without touching it. The door left wide open in her escape. Every step echoing through the tight space from where she retreats. 

Rexa barking. 

Back door opening. 

Silence all encompassing. 

_ Well that went nowhere. _ Burying my face into the sheets, I try to make a mental note to wash them later when all of this is somewhat dialed down or if I ever find myself in need of something to do that is not Lexa in this very bed. Clutching the rumpled sheets that smell of our sweat and days old pent up tension around me, I search for words. 

Laying still, my ears search for any hint that she didn’t follow Rexa outside. In my search though, the only thing I hear is the gurgle in my own stomach. I grunt and clutch myself in tighter. 

She’s hurt now. The anxiety rolling off her and seeping into the walls. A fresh coat of paint for the next stage of our life. The stage of unspoken issues hopefully lost now, but the brutal honesty maybe doing more damage. 

My stomach grumbles again as coffee fumes waft throughout the house.  _ Traitor,  _ but I sigh and resign myself to the fact that I can’t hide out here all day. That Trikru may be waiting for me when I leave this room, but Lexa may also be needing me. 

Rolling from the bed, I grab the first shirt I see. I don’t care that it was on the floor. What matters is that it has Lexa’s name on it and it smells like her. Well sorta stinks like her because she must have worn this shirt to practice. My breasts pretty much stick out from the large holes down the sides, but at least my nipples are covered, even though I can totally see them through the white material. It takes a moment, but I notice it’s the matching shirt to Lexa’s shorts. 

While I’m looking around the room, I catch my reflection in the full length mirror. Lexa’s long shirt stopping just around the upper part of my thighs. I could go with no panties, but Lexa has a thing about me and my vagina being naked in the now pristinely cleaned kitchen. Turning to the side, I examine my figure.

_Yeah… okay... I might be short, or at least shorter in comparison to her giant ass but I'm in shape_ _._ I pinch at my hip bone. I’m not sure when it happened but the pudge that used to cling around my hips seems… less. _well I'm not a blob. It even looks like I’ve lost some weight since I met her_ _._ Overall, I seem smaller. And I feel like I should be happy about being thinner and more in shape and like maybe Lexa will find me too sexy to resist… but I also feel off. _I shouldn’t have to feel bad about being awesome. I’m just a sexy amateur ball player and my fucking girlfriend needs to get over her bruised ego and under me…against her car._

> Yeah, that was when I shoulda realized I was sick. Instead though I actually started looking for excuses not to go to the doctor. Not to find out that something was seriously wrong. I didn’t want the feeling to turn into my reality. I didn’t want to be a victim again, especially a victim of my own body.

Seeing my breasts through the sides of the shirt, I realize that I have an opportunity to actually try and be sorta sporty sexy for her. So rather than just pulling something on my bottom half, I spend a little longer on choosing panties. Holding out various pairs. Matching the colors to the shirt. Finally settling on a pair of cheekies that will give her a good view. The color just dark enough to show through the shirt.

Facing the mirror again. Tying my hair in a messy bun, I really don’t bother with pants. If I can defuse the ticking time bomb that is rummaging through the kitchen with the sight of my bare legs and a peak at my butt, well a girl’s gotta use what she’s got. 

_ Hopefully, she’s more horny at this point than hurt. _

I’m trying to leave to the bedroom, but fails. Rexa barges in the bedroom at the sound of my pinky toe slamming into the dresser. Her tail wagging and drool dripping as I shed legit tears. My toe throbbing and glowing red. 

I’m bending to hold my toe in case the dresser has torn it partially from my foot,  and Rexa sees this as her chance to get some love. Her tongue running over the side of my face and taking away the tracks of tears. I squat to give her a hug before pushing her out with me, closing the door behind. 

“I know you miss cuddling next to me on the bed,” I tell her. Her ears flopping as I ruffle them. “It took so long to remove dog hair from the bed last time, and she’s already mad at me.” 

I keep talking to my pit as I hobble over the squeaky floor, with my pinky toe raised a little. “I mean she loves you and everything. But I don’t think she appreciated having dog hair in her mouth that one time she bit into the sheet.” A cabinet door slams shut and then another. I try to focus on something else… anything. Like the clearly unhealthy sanitizing routine that may have involved bleach on her tongue to remove the dog taste from her mouth. Looking down at Rexa, I say, “I’m sorry, I promised you would no longer be allowed on the bed.” 

I smirk a little as I catch the end of Lexa’s ranting to herself, apparently recalling the same thing. “...and you better not have let Rexa leave sticky smelly drool all over my pillow.”

The smile falls off my face though as I enter the kitchen. It’s only momentary that I can see the dried tear tracks and her red puffy eyes. Her body turns so quickly that I actually jump a little behind the doorway. She’s turned away from me. All I can see are her hands. Her hands busy turning a plate over and over again. It’s clear she doesn’t have anything to do, and the only goal in her action is to avoid me. 

And I don’t want to be avoided. My foot hurts. I look fucking hot. She needs to get her shit together. “Is this how it’s gonna be?” 

She doesn’t answer. Moving to put the plate in the cabinet, I feel the frustration building. Heat rolling and flushing my skin again. Head up and shaking, as I inform her, “You can’t avoid me all day?”

I expect silence. 

“I can try,” Lexa practically mutters. 

> I clearly should have wished for silence because really we were just going to fight. That’s all there was to it… Well or avoid each other. Seems to be the two things we are both really really good at. 

Hitting the doorframe loudly, I say, “No.”

> See fight.

“No?” Head tilting slowly towards me, I watch the squinted eyes of a boiling Lexa ready to blow. 

There’s no turning back though. “You heard me. We are going to sit down, eat breakfast and then we’ll talk.” I am laying down the law like I’m a boss. I’m the boss of this house. My house. My safe place. Mine. 

And since it’s mine, what I say goes.

“I have nothing to say.” I roll my eyes. She says she has nothing to say but then she is literally saying it which is a contradiction and how can’t she see that. Like if she really had nothing to say, then she wouldn’t say anything at all. But she wants to speak. She’s just trying to piss me off. 

Spit flying, I bark, “You had plenty to say when I was giving you a run for your money on that court.”

Body turning towards me, and in two steps she’s in my space. Her body towering over me. Her face angled down, and I realize this may be Trikru. Every muscle within me tightens, and I can’t move. Can’t do anything as the true alpha of the house asserts her dominance over me. Her hiss of growing rage, “And you like rubbing my nose in it.”

Swallowing, my tone get a little softer. A little hesitant. A little stuttered. “No...I...don’t like it…It’s…it’s…“ All of which lasts until the moment that her solid square up seems to lessen and I feel safe enough to pull my shoulders back and bark like the chihuahua I am. “Still not half as bad as how you treated me that day or even before. It bothered you then, it still clearly bothers you now. Me owning you was not the problem.” I let that set in. Then I bite. “You use me as some punching bag to justify your insecurities. Just like you fucked all those fucking girls to make yourself feel bigger. You’re a fucking bully and it’s not okay Lexa.”

I’m out of air. I’m out of Lexa. And suddenly it’s like I can’t breath because a single tear falls from her eye. Her jaw still set. Her lips still firm. Her eyes still locked on to me. But the tear makes me want to reach out again.

_ I try. _

Slowly.

_ I try.  _

Hurting.

_ I try. _

Hoping.

_ I try.  _

“I want to help but you gotta talk to me.”

_ I try. _

Listening.

_ I try. _

“Not now.”

_ I try.  _

Begging.

_ I try. _

“Lexa. Just talk to me please.”

_ I try. _

Pleading.

_ I try. _

“I said not now.”

_ I try. _

Yelling.

_ I try.  _

“When then huh? I know I’m not the best at dealing with things but at least I’m trying. Why won’t you?”

_ I try. _

Failing.

_ I tried.  _

“Stop.”

I don’t though. I have already failed so I might as well go for the big one. “Is it because of Anya?”

Lexa abruptly moves away from me. Her body away... very much like a repeat of the bedroom. She walks away in a hurry, and once again I’m left hanging but this time I chase after her. Matching her steps though mine are smaller. 

Down the hallway and back to the bedroom. The room where I block her within. Block the door as best as I can. I can’t fill the space though. The fingers of my right hand digging into the old wood of the frame to keep my knees from giving out as she looks to be gathering her stuff.

But she’s not. Which let’s me breathe. She isn’t packing a bag this time, and something resonates that she is not leaving me. But then she’s pulling on that torn fucking hoodie from the night at the bar. The hoodie that she will never tell me is Anya’s but I know. I mean I fangirled her enough, that the hoodie was the first hint to their relationship. It was Anya’s and she was always seen in it. And then it became Lexa’s.

Lexa’s fucking security blanket.

She’s thrusting her feet into a pair of running shoes, and all my fight is back. My legs strong and voice loud, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going out.”

> And when the fight is too much. Someone runs away. And nothing gets done… again. 

She’s standing in front of me. Her eyes locked somewhere above me. Like I’m too insignificant to be noticed. Too small to matter. But I keep trying. Just like always I keep trying. “Where?”

“Out.” And I keep failing. 

Failing is like my life’s biggest accomplishment. They should give out prizes for people who can fail as much as I can. People who can fail as many people as I can. But failing just means that I have to keep trying. 

“How long?”

She looks at me this time. Her words not cold, but I can tell that she’s walking a fine line between rage and functioning. “I just need some air.” And I’m blocking her out. I’m blocking her and this could end very very badly for me. “I’ll be back when I’ll be back,” and this time it’s more of a plead. Like she is begging me to move. But her clenched fists tell me if I don’t move willingly she may actually move me. 

“Okay,” I barely whisper. My body deflated in defeat, which she must see as I move from the doorway. Resting against the bathroom door, or relying on it. She stalls for a moment on her way out to brush the stray tear that roll down my cheek. 

Her hand lingers there and she leans in to kiss my forehead. A kiss full of things unsaid that are battling walls upon walls to be let out. I close my eyes as I feel to my very bones her whispered, “I’m sorry,” before she clears the room. 

I still have my eyes closed as each step vibrates into my core. Again the emptiness so complete that the vibrations just echo until the sounds of her leaving almost fill me completely, and the loss of Lexa becomes my reality, even if it’s only temporary the corporeal feeling of being left solidifies when I hear the front door click. Rexa barks over the top of the couch and I’m left with just the sounds of my house threatening to give way. That and Lexa’s car making gravel fly from her hasty depart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello our dear friends and people we really don't know but love your comments and kudos,
> 
> First we need you to remember that we are attention whores and we love kudos and more so comments. Even sadly mean comments make us feel important. We expect a little hate due to this chapter. Low said she accepts the hate and apologizes for things. I however apologize for nothing. You read stories that I collaborate on or write by myself knowing I love to inflict pain. Sorry that I'm not sorry. 
> 
> The next thing to address is our long absence. This I am sorry for. For those of you that know me or have followed me know that I was working very hard to be come a foster parent on top of working two jobs teaching. Well, the dream has come true and I have a thirteen year old daughter that is keeping me very busy, and I will have a 9 year old in the next two weeks. This has made me a bad writing partner and you all owe this chapter to Low for riding my ass to sit down and finish my part. She truly is amazing and deserves the kudos and comments. 
> 
> We are a team and when we can we will update. We live on opposite sides of the world literally but we have not forgotten our 100 chapter promise. We actually have every chapter outlined... just have to have time to sit down and make it work. Please stay with us and love on Low for being an effective slave driver. 
> 
> -Luxi


	47. Don't have to be  a villain

**~Lexa~**

The road welcomes me, as I push my baby as far as I can. Transitioning between cars, and swing around the semis. Only three minutes to the freeway. Few cars on the four lane freeway make it easy to hit eighty. Once I’m going that fast it’s even easier to hit ninety. Small cracks in the road cause my car to bounce with the high speed. I press the gas, and push us faster. Just like I pushed Anya as far as she would go until she left. Pushed her until she wanted a divorce.

Just like I am pushing Clarke.

The car carries me away from Phoenix. Escaping the burning city. The place where one ends in a fiery death that is supposed to lead to rebirth. The mythology of a being that has no place in society. Because once I die, I’m dead. There’s no coming back. My one chance at life and I have spent so many years blowing it.

I hit the steering wheel. _I’m supposed to be a hero. A fucking hero is supposed to be courageous and considerate. I’m supposed to put others first and do all that bullshit._

A single deep breath doesn’t actually help. Instead the tears fall easily. _I’m no hero. No better than the man that took advantage of my princess. I’m not on that fucking…what does Clarke call it?_

I search for the name of the circle drawing. I try to remember her words, but I wasn’t listening. I was staring at the way her eyes lit up. I was staring at her tits bouncing as she laughs over the ridiculousness of the movie. _It’s some fucking journey. God damn it, why don’t I actually listen to her?_

Fingers tightening around the steering wheel, I berate myself for being a shitty excuse of a fiancée.

_I couldn’t just accept that she’s amazing. I couldn’t be happy that not only does she give a flying fuck about my job but that she cares enough to practice herself. That she shares something I love, and yet I can’t even bother to pay attention to something she has explained to me so many times it’s not even funny. It’s not funny the level of disregard I seem to have for her feelings. For the things that make her excited, and that she cares so much for._

Palm slamming into the wheel, I ready myself to pass the fucking grandma barely crawling in front of me. I adjust my grip and swing into the slow lane. Passing by the car, its old paint peeling away so that a long patched strip of rusting steel was visible.  

Something clicks as I swing around the dark crumbling sedan. My eyes coming up just in time to see the exit approaching that I took the first week of October. I pull off the highway with a jerk of the wheel. Gravel coming up as my brakes lock the tires. A long trail of dust leaving me stopped just before the road that would take me to Ark Academy.

Sweat gathers along my hairline and on the back of my neck. Music from the car is still pounding into my chest. My eyes blinking repeatedly. Lids fighting against the flood that will overcome if I can’t get my shit together.

Staying locked on the sign, I think over all of the things that took me to Ark Academy. My parents who never call. Who couldn’t even come to my wedding because I was following an “unGodly” path. Two sinners that tortured me in their own way had the audacity to tell me I’m going to hell. I’m the problem because I chose Anya over their faith.

A faith I lost for love, because I was forced to choose between the woman that loved me and supported me, and my parents’ silent God, who is continuously judging me for value found only in success. Maybe they got it wrong though.

Looking through the tinted glass, I take in the painted sky. The fluffy clouds so vibrant it makes me wonder if maybe I am just a story in someone else’s bigger world. _Maybe I am just a pawn for a bigger entity._

Taking a chance on this unknown writer, I search my vocabulary for words to plead with. To ask for guidance. The words flipping through my mind as I try to remember how to ask for help. Nothing seems to fit though, because I don’t even know what to ask for. _Do I ask for this deity to keep Clarke from cheating on me, because it may break me? Do I ask him/her/it to help me be a better partner? I mean can’t I do that on my own?_ And the more questions that I develop the less asking for help seems probable or useful.

>  The funny thing is as I wrote the story I realized the irony of having so little control over my own self as a character. That as much as I hated what I was doing and I could force myself into being better in the story. It just wasn’t how it was meant to play out. I needed this moment.

Bringing my eyes down to the familiar steering wheel, I embrace that there’s no reason to look up. No entity in the sky that can make my wishes come true. If my parents were right about anything, I should focus downward, towards the hypothetical fiery depths of hell in the center of the Earth.

My chin drops and I stare at the tear in the pocket of my hoodie. The hoodie that escaped with me. Running as fast as possible from Clarke before I said something else to hurt her. Before I made her feel more useless and pathetic than I already had. I seem to have that effect on her. I know I didn’t run away because of that. I have no problem biting at Clarke when she threatens me. It's the power she gives me by being the alpha. No, the reality of my fleeing is everything to do with Anya. Is everything to do with admitting that that I’m still hurting over Anya, and that I know Anya is a better person than me.

That Clarke would be safer with Anya, even as a sub than with me as her Alpha. _Because I’m a cheater. I’m the one that ruined my marriage and got engaged before I was even legally divorced._

I don't want to embrace how much I may have hurt my blonde teacher with the words that seemed to so effortlessly fall out of my mouth. _I hurt her, just like I hurt everyone else. Just like I hurt Anya. Just like I hurt Costia. Just like I hurt all the people that have come into my life._

_God created me and the only thing I have managed to do is hurt people._

Something bites into my flesh though. My fingers practically breaking from the sheer force I am gripping the wheel with. My head coming down to slam against the top of the leather wrapped steel. The pain stealing away the self hate for just a moment. A moment long enough to realize that I am fucking up again.

A moment to realize that I hurt Clarke like Anya used to hurt me. Breaking me down in my moment of triumph when she should have been congratulating me.

“Fuuuuuuck! Fucking fuck, fuck!”

My hand releases the wheel only to collide against it again. And then once more. Striking it until my flesh is hot, red, and sore. I can’t hit it enough though. I promised to marry her. I promised to be her one and yet I hurt her. I break her down, and then try to pretend that everything is okay.

Nothing is okay.

I tug at the pocket. Remembering Tris’ drink coating my face. Recalling the sting of the waitress’ palm over my cheek. Realizing that I was self-sabotaging just like I’m doing now.

_I can’t keep fucking up like this. I can’t keep hurting Clarke and justifying it. I can’t let my own issues come out to bite at her because I haven’t dealt with my shit. I can’t keep pretending that I’m a hero. That, by making myself into someone that I thought would stop taking shit from the world, I created a villain._

_Lexa fucking Trikru._

Cos fed me the new identity. The words becoming a shroud to cloak my vulnerability and pain with. To hide away as I fake it. And at some point the cloak became my costume, and my costume fused within my being to create a version of self belonging only in an alternative universe. _It’s all Cos’ fault_.

> Light bulb illuminates… now. Cue dramatic heroic music shit.

Staring up at the sign, I remember the way Clarke had run from me after I embarrassed her in front of her classroom. The look in her eyes so similar to the one she had at the bar. So scared and just trying to get away. And I was Lexa fucking Trikru.

 _I was Lexa fucking Trikru_.

Costia didn’t force me to dance with Clarke. Costia had wanted to go back to my house. She had wanted it to be just her and me. She hadn’t pointed to the blonde on the dance floor and said bring her to bed at all costs. She hadn’t held onto Clarke as she tried and begged to be released from getting fucked against a railing while hundreds of people watched.

 _I was Lexa fucking Trikru. It was my fault that she’d been terrified of me on her birthday. It wasn’t Cos’_.

My nerves seem to spark to life. The flashes igniting the gasoline in my veins. Blood rushing everywhere as I embrace who I had become since college. The fire burns out quickly though. Not enough oxygen in the air to sustain my new resolve. “I’m sorry, Clarke,” I say to no one but the desert. The void that carries away the words she seems to find meaningless.

I wish she knew how much I meant them. That I try to say them differently each time. Each time I screw up with her, I try to be better. Her presence and Jack-Jack’s makes me a better human.

Sorry isn’t enough for Clarke though. Sorry isn’t enough, because she wants more. She wants the full apology that I have yet to give her. I can say I’m sorry all I want, but until I acknowledge my fault and come up with a solution she knows I’m not fully sorry. She knows I won’t fix it.

Just like with Anya.

Just like with Costia.

Just like with Echo.

Just like with anybody else that came upon my path filled with destruction. So much so that I can’t see up from down anymore.

As I take a deep breath to calm myself, I tug at the piece of clothing that withstood all this mess. The path seems to become momentarily clear though. _The Hero’s Journey, that’s what she calls it_ , takes on a new meaning. I need to finish the apologies, or maybe really start them. _I need to right the wrongs. Maybe I don’t have to be the villain of my own story. Maybe I can be just Lexa. Just Lexa._

I struggle to identify this new identity, but I recognize this as part of the problem. _I can’t change who I am. I can’t alter the values and morals that make up me. I can’t just create a new identity to hide behind._

The visor flips down so easily. The green eyes staring back at me are no different that any other time I’ve looked at myself before. I’m still just me. _Just Lexa._ I’m the person that Clarke Griffin fell in love with. I’m the person that Jacky said yes to. I’m the person that is a part of a family. I’m also the person that destroyed a family.

The material between my fingers makes sense now, and I know where to go. I know the first atonement is just one of many. That there is a list of people I owe more than just apologies too.

But it starts first with Anya.

~~~~~

Wasting gas has never been an issue for me. No concern over rising gas prices allows me to take my time driving around and around the housing track of Anya’s new home. After having driven around the block two or five times, I finally decide to pull up at the one house without any perky flowers on the porch. I park the car at the curb, turning the engine off and not making a move to get out.

My muscles tighten, and I feel the familiar fear edge its way into my being. Anya hates uninvited guests. I had to bribe Emori for the address, which means I am the definition of an uninvited guest. For a brief second my mind flashes to the various modes of punishment Anya had for disobeying her. Ass tightening, I briefly worry about feeling one of her leather strips I’m sure she still owns.

I don’t have time to worry for long though. I don’t even make it onto the porch before her door opens, and she stands in the entrance. Her body leaning against the frame and eyes narrowing at me.

There are no words of greeting. No expressions of welcome. Just a stare down, western style. She doesn’t move. It’s up to me. Slowly, I raise a single hand in a casual greeting.

Dark brown eyes look me over and then she turns from the door. The only indication of my welcome being that she left the door open for me. So I follow silently within the house.

“What are you doing here, Lex?”

I follow her voice around the corner and find her holding a large knife, slicing various vegetables. She looks to be preparing for visitors, and I’m not even sure how she knew that I was outside from where she stood.

It’s creepy how well she knows me though, because she starts to explain. “Whenever you used to show up out of the blue, I always got goosebumps.” I am chewing on this while she continues to explain. “Even when I was in Chicago, I would get goosebumps and turn on the news and I would see your face there. It’s like I have a Lexi-sense.”

I don’t know why, but I start with, “The night I was with Cos…?”

She shakes her head. Her hand gripping the handle of the kitchen blade and then setting it down carefully. Palms flat against counter, she raises her chin to see me. To look at me, but then they fall down to the hoodie. She shakes her head again, dyed blonde hair falling in her face just enough to make her seem less scary.

“I had asked her to take you out. I had asked her to help you relax because you were playing like shit. She promised so I went to bed.” She holds there, as the energy that was left within me seems to fall. Like I could just collapse on her tile floor. “I woke up shivering in the middle of a Chicago summer. The tiny window unit could not produce so much cold air, so I knew something was wrong. It was like I had become the Ice Queen. Like my heart had frozen over.”

Her hand closes around the knife again. The strips of vegetables slicing quickly, as though she is imagining them as something else. “I opened my phone and she had posted the image on Instagram. It was a notification, like the little bitch wanted me to see, and I swear I could have cut off her fucking head for doing that to me.”

The knife raises towards me, and I am grateful for the island separating us. For the granite counter top that comes up just past her waist and giving me a safe distance from her. Unless she throws the knife. Then I’m dead for sure.

“I wanted to blame her. I knew she had always had a thing for you. Hell that was why we met. Cos wanted me to approve of the basketball bitch she was going after. I fucked up though. I fell in love with you.”

I can’t tear my eyes from her. The way she for once was telling me the whole story. Letting me in.

“You were so scared of everything but basketball. You were scared of being gay, even though you couldn’t hide the way you drooled over any pussy in a short skirt. You were innocent and giving, and I fucking loved all of that about you. I loved that I was your first kiss, and I thought I would be your last. I never…”

She pauses and the vegetables fly from the cutting board across the kitchen. Her palms landing back on the counter as she takes a sharp inhale. Trying to gather her cool again. Never, in all the time I have known her, had I seen her lose her temper like this.

“An,” I try, but a single hand comes up to stop me. Clearly she has decided this is her time, and I owe her that.

She grabs the cutting board from the counter, putting it in the sink before turning back to me. “We already talked about why I left. I knew I hurt you. I broke you and I couldn’t fix you, so I left you. I failed you as wife. I failed you as a dom.” Her back stays to me. Her confession unable to meet my eye. “I wanted it to be all her fault and so I came home. I wanted to hear you tell me she forced you to kiss her.”

I don’t want to hear what comes next. I know what it is, and I don’t want to hear her say it. Her voice cracks a little. Just enough that I know she won’t let me see her now. I haven’t earned this vulnerability from her.

“I was ready to fully blame her… to punish you for kissing her, and I was going to blame her until I saw you using one of my dicks to take her from behind.”

Eyes closing, I feel all of the air exit me. Remembering the hurt on her face as I had a grip in Cos’ hair pressing her face to the pillow so that there was no question who was in charge.

Anya turns abruptly and my eyes snap open at the sound of her approach. The steady clicks of her boots against the wooden floor. “Why Lexa?” Her face flushed, and the anger I never saw coming out finally. “You could have fucked anyone, and you choose to fuck my baby sister in our bed.”

I have an answer. It’s not an easy one to hear - not one of those overly complicated psychological bullcrap no - but it’s an answer nonetheless. And I tell her before I lose my courage. “She was yours. Just like I was yours. And I wanted you for once to hurt as bad as you hurt me.”

Nothing moves. I know personally I cease to even breath. We just stare at each other. I think she expects my eyes to fall, but they don’t. Instead, I give her what Clarke really wants.

“I’m sorry that I ruined our marriage. I’m sorry that I never spoke up and told you what I needed or wanted. I’m sorry that I just bowed to you, and quit fighting…” There are so many things to be sorry for. “But mostly, I’m sorry I kissed Costia instead of getting on a plane to come tell you to get your ass home.”

Again we embrace the weight of our confessions. Each acknowledging the other’s apology. Taking in where we have gotten to.

She says the most important name first. “Clarke.”

There’s no question that had either of us had the courage to say these things months ago, we could probably still be married. We could’ve gone to counseling, worked on the semantics of our relationship and the boundaries of the sub/dom roles we played. But that was a world without Clarke Griffin.

“I love her,” I admit. Sealing the fate of our divorce as always being just that. A final nail in the coffin of our romantic relationship.

Her eyes don’t shift, not even as she says, “You have to do better.”

Nodding, I agree. “I have to be better. And that starts with being me.” I reach down and tug off the hoodie. I don’t actually have a shirt on under it. Just a sports bra, and I see Anya’s head tilt and jaw jut out just enough that it looks like she may attack me.

“I’m not fucking you, Lex,” she states as though that needed clarification. As though, she thought I was saying I needed to be with multiple partners.

Shaking my head, I throw the hoodie at her face. “No, dip shit. I need to stop being your protégé or padawan and start being me. Start being Just Lexa.”

She takes the sweatshirt in her hands. Her fingers finding the torn pocket, and eyes looking up. “What the fuck did you do to it? This was my favorite!”

Lips twisting a little, I begin with, “Well, I was trying to be someone I wasn’t and I ended up getting covered in coke, slapped in the face, stuck on a fence, and then falling into the arms of my future wife.”

She looks at the material then sets it on the counter. Nodding to the vegetables on the floor, she says, “Help me clean up, and I’ll make you some real food because I want to hear who slapped you, and I don’t know why but I get wet thinking about the fact it may have been Clarke.”

“I should be disturbed that you getting wet always involves me getting beaten.”

I kneel down and start picking up pieces of cucumber, carrots, yellow peppers, and squash.

She’s on the floor not too far away, as she asks, “Is she a…?”

“No, omega." I laugh though, as I realize that I'm still not the boss though. "She definitely owns the bed.”

"Speaking of omegas, did you see that fan fic where I totally got to fuck your girl first?" My head shoots up and I fight back the growl. But Anya is laughing like in the old days, and even though it’s at my expense, it’s still a beautiful sound. A sound that holds some promise for a pleasant future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is finally smut.


	48. Getting out of the dog house.

~Clarke~

“Whyyyyyyyyyy?!” I scream at the square brick house. 

The cabinet door groans, but it’s nothing compared to the one coming out of me. Exasperation at my ability to fuck up so completely, first this morning and now surrounded by every fucking pot, pan, casserole dish, and plate that Lexa managed to strategically fit into this tiny ass space. 

I’m talking four cabinets. Just four cabinets. It’s not like this could be rocket science, or planning an epic battle between two armies. Yet I managed to make it look like a freaking bomb exploded and took no prisoners. Why did I think it was a good idea to just take everything out without paying attention to where I took them in the first place. Like that one time when I thought I could fix the bullet in my toy by myself and Raven had to buy me another one. She still won’t let me live it down.

The pot in my hand is about to be through the window when a half naked Lexa throws open the front door and is in the doorway of the kitchen within two steps. Lexa coming home to see her masterfully organized space disheveled because I wanted to do something nice. Because I wanted to scrub all the cabinets and show her that I care about her being in this space with me. 

She’s just staring at me, looking down at me like a giant. Her body filling the tiny doorway. Nothing but tanned flesh stretching around toned muscles and abs. Her breasts barely covered by the nike bra. Her flesh sculpted so the shorts sit just under her hip bones that created the v shape leading down. 

Tears are falling now that she’s standing there staring at me. There’s no way to hold them back, as I try to explain. I try to tell her, “I wanted to help.”

Lexa’s head tilts just enough to the side that I can tell she is analyzing me. I can tell that she is trying to determine what the fuck is wrong with me. So I try again, “I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry that I fucked things up and made you want to avoid me. I’m sorry. I wanted to do something right for once and look,” I gesture all around me as I sniffle. “I made a mess. I think this kitchen is trying to tell me something. Like this is me, I’m the freaking pans on the floor and you, you’re the neat cupboards and I just can’t make them work together. Like I should be able to put me in you-” and I stop as her lips curl up at the corners.

An eyebrow raises just enough that I know. I know she’s not mad at me even though she should be. She’s not mad and thinks the foot in my mouth right now is nothing short of amusing. 

She runs with it too. Her smile turning to a sideways smirk of boss and she tells me, “I guess it’s because I should be me in you instead.” My mouth falls open as I try desperately for a quip. 

Nothing. I got nothing as I curse my brain.

I can’t think though because she has me in her arms. My body lifted from the floor like there’s nothing to me. But her muscles bulge a little, and I realize that she is just pretending to make this look easy. I cling to her arms. To her sides. To her ass as mine is set on the counter and her body spreads my legs, pushing appliances like she doesn’t care that we’ll have to sanitize everything because of me.

Her mouth attacking my throat, and deft fingers working up and under my shirt until my breast is filling her palm. Her fingers squeezing while my nipple rises and rubs against the center of her hand, already so sensitive. And fuck she feels so good. 

My core steadies as her hands tug at the bottom of me shirt. I realize though that she is wearing just her bra.  _ What the fuck happened to her sweatshirt? _

I’m out of breath thanks to the tongue that is stroking circles around my nipple, but I manage to get out, “Why are you half naked?”

Lexa must not understand me though. Her mouth leaves my perked breast to trail a hot path to the other, licking at the valley, sucking marks on the inner sides. Her hands tugging her pants off, and next her mouth leaving met. She doesn’t take any time in stripping off her bra and standing proud of her naked before me. 

Lexa’s hands fall to her hips, raising her chin and puffing her chest and she seems to be trying to flex. I realize she is totally trying to flex when one pectoral muscle jumps. Her eyes fall and I think maybe she thinks if she stares at it they both will work. But they don’t and I’m laughing. It’s endearing really but I don’t have a clue of what’s going on right now. Like one minute we are fighting and I’m crying between a cheese grater and a frying pan, and the next she’s naked in the middle of the kitchen, cocky, trying to show off.

I cover my mouth with one hand and the other is holding my breasts that are shaking much more rapidly than Lexa’s pecks are flexing. And for a moment I can imagine Lexa as a dude acting like a fool trying to impress me, but the image is worse because if she does this with her tits I can only imagine what she would be doing with a dick. I almost slide off the counter because her proud face has fallen into a pout and her eyes keep wandering back to her own breasts. 

“Babe what are you doing?” I really try to hold in the laughter because Lexa, naked and pouting is just so cute. She doesn’t like being called cute but right now, glaring at her uncooperative boobs, I have no other word to describe her.

“You told me to strip, Clarke.”

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t but I do like where this is going.”

Her lips scrunch and so do her eyebrows. Her shoulders hop a little back and she stands even straighter. Arms coming across her chest. Her confidence clearly receding “What do you mean you didn’t tell me to strip?” her voice losing the cocky attitude and only leaving the mask of pride still in place. 

Shaking my head, I tug at her to pull her closer. Get her toned body between my thighs once more. But she’s a little stiffer now. We’ve lost the momentum and the confidence that had her picking me up off the floor. 

“Hey. Look at me. You know I love it when you do things like that but I meant where’s Anya’s sweatshirt.”

A fear crosses her eyes then, and I realize that I admitted to knowing. I admitted to knowing that the hoodie was Anya’s and thus the bigger connotation of her wearing it meant. For a brief second I wonder if maybe she’s scared because her accusations are more to do with her own lingering desires for her ex-wife.

“Lex.”

She doesn’t pull away though. She doesn’t even look away. Her eyes only find me, and her hands find my cheeks, as she holds my face so delicately between her hands. Her eyes careful as she tells me, “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for not being as honest with you as I had promised to be. But I didn’t realize how much of me still needed to deal with Anya. How much of me still depended on her approval and on her being in my life. And I accused you not because I felt you would cheat on me. Truthfully it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me because I felt as though she was a better choice. That she is a better choice.” 

“Better ch..What? A better choice for who? You?”

“For you.”

“I...no. I chose you, Lex.” 

“Please Clarke. I need to tell you more than just I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

“Listen I’m not saying you should have chosen Anya but it would have made sense if you had gone to her. Because we may had had our issues but she was true to me, she kept true to me. She didn’t cheat on me and she continued to support me and she came to support you even when I couldn’t help. After all me being in your life is what caused all of the fall out.”

“Please, that board has been trying to find something on me since I started. Me being involved with a woman is not the only issue with them.”

“I almost got your kid taken away and she had to come rescue you.” 

“Lex.”

“You almost lost your job because of me and she came and saved it. She is the one that fixes.”

“Lex.” 

“Hell she fixed me when I needed her to. She has clearly been interested in you since day one. She doesn’t just kiss people. It may seem that way but it isn’t because she is reserved and has this bubble and she just lets you in because she cares about you.”

“Oh my god Lexa. Stop it. I almost lost my job because you were their perfect excuse. And my mother has been difficult about letting me be my kid’s mother. It’s on them and it’s on me. And I don’t care about Anya. Why are you comparing yourself to her when I’m all in with you?”

“Because she sees how amazing you are just like I do and I feel like she wouldn’t hurt you the way that I could. The way that I hurt her and it’s just overwhelming knowing that I’m not good enough for you because I can’t be strong enough for you.”

“But you are Lexa. You are good enough for me. More than enough. You don’t know how much you are. You saved me Lexa. You’re saving me. From my past. From myself. You don’t have the monopole of shitty issues.”

But it’s like she doesn’t hear me. She is lost in her own confession. Her own world of apologies and she keeps talking. I know nothing I say really at this point will stop her. “Because I can’t be your knight in rescue when my fucking ex-wife already is. She can get a court date and visitation in a day when I can’t even get an apartment. It’s fucking hard, but it’s not your fault because it’s my own issues.”

I just stop trying to interject altogether. Clearly Lexa has been struggling with all of this for some time and I had no clue to how much it weighed on her, how much weighed on her. Me talking or not won’t change her want to let it all out. We’ve always said we were bad at communicating and I’m glad one of us is finally really opening up. This is what she needs. This is what we need. So I shut up and let her speak. Especially since I am missing parts of what she is saying “...It’s my own problem with feeling inadequate compared to her and it’s because I was unfaithful to her. I didn’t stand up to her, so I went today to stand up to her. I went today to see her and I gave her the sweatshirt back.”

So that’s where she went. Mystery solved. I should be glad Lexa went to her ex-wife to sort things out but a part of me still recoils at the idea that Lexa fled me to go to her. I know it’s irrational but while she’s basically saying I’ll be better off with Anya, the insecure part of me is still scared that she’ll run back to her, despite knowing better.  _ But do I know better? _

“I gave her that piece of her that I was still clinging to…”

Tilting my head, I’m confused.  _ Did she misspeak and she means she had to give her back a piece of herself? Did Lexa go back to Anya? _

“... and I let her ask me the questions she needed to ask and I needed to apologize for hurting her. I needed to acknowledge that I had wronged her and why I had wronged her and take her wrath for hurting her and her family but mostly her.”

Lexa’s hands are in the air. Her body trying to show me how many people she hurt. I am having a hard time following where this is going though, because I feel like at any moment she is going to tell me she is going back to Anya. That the way to make things better was to restart their relationship. That everything was going to shit between us because I wasn’t Anya.  _ But what about me? What about Raven? _

I’m trying to refocus but the words coming out next are not helping, “Because, yes, our relationship was a mess when it came to the sub and dom spaces we fell into, but there were times when it wasn’t. There were months and years that we were happy, Clarke.” Lexa’s eyes are so present suddenly. Like she is back with me, in this moment. With this conversation. But I don’t know if I can continue to be in this conversation. 

Her confession continues though whether I am ready for it or not. She is begging now for me to understand, “And when we spoke of her I only told you the bad because I didn’t want to admit that she was good to me. She was so good to me and careful with me and I fucked it up because I was angry and I was angry and I fucked her sister and I fucked a lot of women. Like so many women...” And she’s gone again. My stomach twisting a little at the reminder of all her sexcapades, but she keeps going and I feel the need to stop her. “...and I just couldn’t stop from trying to hook up with other women.”

Holding a hand just over her chest, I stare into her eyes as she holds her tongue. I tell her “Got it. No more other women.” I don’t beg her,  _ No more Anya, _ though like my heart is begging for me to say.

Lexa’s chin falls some, and she tries to recover, “That’s… shit. I’m sorry, not what I was trying to say. I just need you to know that I went to Anya. I did what I should have done instead of fucking-”

With a soft laugh I throw in, “All the other women.” As I realize that Lexa’s speech was never about her telling me she was going back to Anya, about telling me that I was a mistake. I breathe easier as I let my hovering hand fall onto her arm.

She seem just a little less tense and worried. Her lungs taking in another gulp of air before her words pick up speed. I have to remember she’s from California and her ability to ramble so quickly has my head spinning trying to keep up with her words. “Yes. And I did what you taught me. I didn’t just say I was sorry, I admitted to what I did wrong and I took the steps I needed to for us both to move on.” And Lexa seems to have finally run out of breath. Except she hasn’t because she starts to speak again, “I’m sorry that I screwed up due to my insecurities. I can’t fix the way I have hurt you but I can work to make sure it doesn’t happen again by addressing those I have wronged and finally start to learn from my mistakes.”

I don’t give her a chance to keep talking. There’s no way to know if she had more to say, but I press my lips to hers and I steal away her words. Sharing her breaths as I press my breasts against hers. Our shared nudity bringing us together, and my lips leaving hers to kiss along her jaw. moving past her ear just enough so I am whispering directly into it as I accept her apology. “I love you, Lexa Trikru. I love you and you are it for me. You’ve been it for me since I first started watching you in college.”

“Stalker,” she growls, and I bite into her earlobe, pulling a hiss from her. 

A slight chuckle fights its way from my lips, and I stutter in my control for a moment. Just a moment, but it’s a moment too much because she has regained that confidence and has her hand coming up between my legs. Her fingers dancing over the very very wet panties  before they push past the fabric. 

“I’m done being a whimp. I got naked for a reason. Now let’s get back to me being inside of you.” I can’t even answer because the first finger slides inside of me. The counter making the area tighter as Lexa curls the knuckle deep single digit. There’s no possible way for me to tell her that her line was horrible because my back is arching my tits towards her hovering face. My body betrays me with a shiver, the long ass kind, starting from the tip of my toes all the way to my neck, pushing my waiting and wanting breasts into her eager mouth. 

I hook an arm around her shoulders and brace myself on the counter with the other as her move forward almost makes us both fall over, which prompts her to push herself more into me. It’s just one finger. A single digit. I’m so full though with Lexa. Her breath heavy with lust not exhaustion as she pulls back only to fill me more. Spreading me open with two fingers instead of just one. 

Slow and steady strikes that have her running the tips upward. Pressing against my pleasure points, threatening to take me to paradise without hardly any preparation needed. I’m gasping, hips rocking against her hand, my arm falling under me with the force of her thrusts, lying us both further into the counter. 

“Fuck!” I cry out.

Lexa’s chest shakes slightly but she doesn’t stop. Her gravelly voice tries to pull more from within me, “Fuck what?”

“Fuck!” I cry out again. My eyes staring into hers. The predatory stare as she stretches me. Her fingers pulling out and twisting as she pushes back within. Occasionally her eyes fall. She smirks the same as she did when she put me on the counter. Her eyes watching the way her fingers penetrate me pussy like I was made to be taking her within me. 

She growls then. Her forehead resting against me, and pace increasing. “Fuck what, Ca-Larke?” She unhooks one of my legs from her waist and brings it up to her shoulder. Thank god I’m a flexible because I would have taken both of us to the floor by now. My head hits the back cabinet and there’s no place left for me to go. My body pinned so open for her to take me.

The hand holding my leg up braces her body against the cabinet door, giving her the support she needs to put more force behind her thrusts. She grunts some as she adjusts the angle of her wrist. My cunt dripping as she presses and pulls from within me. But the pace is slower now. Her plunges strategic enough to get me to moan but not to get me off. 

She says again, “Fuck what?”

“Me!” I scream. Knowing the words she wants from me. The way she wants me to beg for her. “Fuck me, Commander Lexa!” And I scream over and over again. The louder I scream the faster she moves. I can feel her fingers press against me and when she’s as deep as possible they curl upward and just strum over the area threatening to end me. 

“Please,” I add to the mixture of fuck, me, Commander, and Lexa. Being a little brave, I continue to add more words. Commanding more like it, as I tell her “Lek-sa, make me fucking cum!”  

She doesn’t though. Her body seeming to slow as her eyes narrow at me. Her voice growling, and she leans in to bite my neck. Her words broken between bites and sucks as she tells me, “You’re mine. Mine and I get to decide when you cum.” Her fingers press the perfect place and I’m shaking. Shaking so badly that my leg is sliding down from her shoulder. Her hand letting go of the cabinet to descend.

Face kissing its way down until her lips are against my clit. Her tongue coming out just enough to lick over me. Thick pleasure prickling through every nerve as my body quakes to her oral assault. 

Her tongue sheathing itself within my walls that are already spasming. Begging for her to fuck me. Begging her just like I am begging, “Please Commander more. Please. Fuck.”

I’m gasping out any words I can think of to encourage her to let me cum. It’s no longer even a want. The pleasure borderline painful. I need to cum. I need to cum all over her face, and so I beg her to let me come on her tongue. “I want to cum. Lexa please!”

We both know there is nothing at this point that is stopping me from cumming. Nothing that could keep me from this bliss point unless she ceased all movement. I’m too close. Facing the edge of space that is pulling me over. That call of falling, floating.

Her tongue dances up the short distance. flicking over the tip of the nub. Fingers opening me once more, and that is my permission. The quick paced plunges and flicks in synchronization has me falling so completely.

> No, like I literally fell off the counter and Lexa backwards. I got a bruised butt for a week. And Lexa got to joke about fucking me head over heels. Even to this day.

Pots and pans hit each other and the wooden floor. Clangs and bangs so loud that Rexa comes barging in through the open back door from the backyard, panting and drooling all over. Lexa is standing above me, bent forward with an hand outstretched and I’m about to take it when she straightens up and yelps, “Motherfucker.”

She’s dancing. Her hand running over her ass crack as she moves out of the mess of pots and pans. I’m so confused watching the exchange, but she’s still flailing around, “Oh hell no!”

I don’t know what’s happening but she is shaken up and I notice Rexa following Lex. But Lex is shooing the monster pit away. It’s a little irritating, I mean she’s just a dog and it’s not like Lexa is the one that fell on her ass off a counter. “What is your problem?”

She gapes at me. Her eyes wild with bewilderment, “Clarke, your dog just licked my ass!”  _ Oh! _ “I have dog drool on my fucking ass!”  And I just burst laughing as my dog sits next to Lexa innocently looking at her, tail wagging, as Lexa flings her arms in the air, glaring down at me as I fall back laughing onto the floor, my head hitting a bowl.

“Clarke, stop laughing. This is not funny. It could have been my boob or worse!” 

I’m choking on my own laughter, as I make fun of her, “Your boob...worse than your ass!” There’s nothing to stop the laughter as she tells me not to laugh anymore. It just makes me laugh more. 

“I mean it Clarke Griffin! You stop laughing at me this instant,” she demands. But I can’t take her seriously because she’s bent forward staring between her legs like she is examining her asshole for damage. 

Rexa barks. It’s loud and rattles the cabinet doors just enough to cause bent forward Lexa a moment of unbalance. Her hand catching herself on the floor before her face does. Her face just level with the dog that has her own body face downward and a ass up. Tail smacking against the stove with repeated thuds.

Lexa tells the candide counterpart, “You, shut it!”

But the smiling mutt doesn’t. Instead she shares some of Lexa’s ass with her face in a smooth swipe over her lips and cheek. Sending my Commander backwards on her ass as she tries to run and wipe her face at the same time. Tries to fix all the problems but really makes her just flail against the floor like a toddler having a tantrum. 

A six foot three toddler with toned muscles in the fetal position kicking the air as she cries out for me to stop fucking laughing at her because she is dying while trying to keep my dog away from her. I’m the one dying though. Dying over how easily my mutt can take her growly self down.

She finally stops flailing though. Not because Rexa has stopped licking the hand that grips her or I have stopped laughing. No, it’s the phone ringing that stops her. A tone I’ve never heard from her phone before that has her scrambling to her knees and crawling to the coffee table where it lies. 

Her fingers trying to get it open. Shaking as she’s catching her breath to answer. Answer a call that is clearly important to her. So important that it actually makes me nervous as I wait for the greeting to give me some form of explanation. 


	49. I missed her voice.

I reach my phone on the coffee table hurriedly, scratching my knees on the wooden floor. The dog drool that has desecrated my body doesn’t seem to matter anymore.  _ Sticky, slimy dog drool. Dog drool in my ass! _

> Okay, maybe it was still bothering me. Nothing mattered though when that tone was playing. It wasn’t just the ring, it was a dee dum dum dee dum dum. It was significant. 

I give one last shiver at the thought as I wipe my hand on the couch. I hope the dribbling remnants is gone, but I focus instead on the phone again. The smiling dark green eyes staring back at me. 

I don’t need my phone to stink of dog breath as well. 

Crawling up on the couch with the phone still ringing, I sit back and cross my legs. The caller’s photo just stares back at me as I prepare to answer. I’ve missed her so much. Too much to really be able to explain. Too much to explain to her about everything that has been going on. Everything with Clarke, with Jacky, and even with Anya. 

There’s a bark, and I jump. One look back at the kitchen to see the whereabouts of the beast, I give an apologetic glance at Clarke before shifting to glare at the mutt. I tear the  blanket from over the arm of the couch to drape over my legs. I really don’t like the look Rexa is giving me. There’s a gleam in her eyes as her tongue hangs out the side of her mouth.  _ No way that tongue touches any other part of me that is not my hand, and even then, it’s on my terms.  _

> Can’t even count the number of times that tongue has disturbed Clarke and my’s special time. So unbelievably disgusting. Just like the stupid cat that she got Jacky that jumps on the bed whenever I seem to be mid orgasm. 

_ Dee Dum Dum _

The sound breaks my glare from the mutt back to the electronic device. Hastily, I swipe my finger across the answer call button. I smile in anticipation of hearing the warm and loving voice. I can only count two people, well three with the little bug, that could get such reaction from me. I’m preparing to say hello. 

Something.

Anything.

_ Oh, come on!  _

My heart is beating so fast from the military crawl across the dog hair covered floor towards the device. I realize that I could have been in the middle of licking up Clarke’s cunt if it hadn’t been for that dog.  First sex since the fight. Like real sex. Make up sex even. The kinda sex that is hot and fucking grabby.  _ But nooooo! Fucking dog! _

Looking up at Clarke with only my eyes, I realize that I should be a little grateful that Rexa stopped us. I don’t think she would’ve taken well me leaving her high and dry, well soaked, to answer this call. 

But it is no ordinary call. As my eyes catch Clarke’s though, I realize she is worried. That she is scared about something. Studying her, I try to figure out what’s wrong. It takes a moment, and it clicks. The switch flips and I realize that I’ve never told Clarke about  _ her. _

I’m about to tell Clarke who it is, when I hear the voice on the other line a little worn, and a little worried, “Alexandria? Are you there?”

Words fall from my lips as relief rushes through out me. An imaginary weight lifted for a moment. “I thought you would never call me back.” 

I’m smiling when I open my eyes. Open them to a very very naked Clarke watching me. Very very blue eyes wide in all her naked glory. Her feet moving her slowly forward, causing each board she steps on to groan, as though voicing her own distress. A thought suddenly crosses my mind, and I’m glad we are not skyping. I wouldn’t have wanted to give the woman on the other line a heart attack by mistakenly switching the camera around to show the glistening body of my fiancé. 

_ Holy shit! _ The fiancé she doesn’t know about yet since we’ve barely talked lately. It’s not like I could call her out of the blue to announce I had not only found the love of my life, but proposed to her after a month when I wasn’t technically divorced yet. Or that I have a kid now. Like a kid that is like my kid too. 

> Her voice always reminded me of honey. LIke thick and sweat. Strong and powerful. The voice of support. Yeah, the honeyed voice had been a wonderful support all my life from being a pressured kid with a strict household, to coming out, marrying a woman and pursuing a basketball career instead of the honorable profession my parents expected me to get into. 
> 
> It had been several months since I had heard from her. Had heard her tell me of her disappointment with my poor choices. Her words angry as she said, I was, ‘making too many covers of trash magazines’. So I stopped calling. And she stopped calling. That was until Clarke; however, I was still running on fear of disappointing her. Trying to reach out many times after meeting Clarke, but I wasn’t sure if it was the right time. So each time I started to call her, I hung up before the ringtone ever started. That was until earlier today on my way home from Anya’s new house. My confidence of maybe not being such a fuck up. I figured maybe I have given her a reason to be proud of me again with the engagement, the kid, the house and the holiday seasons coming up, I wanted that piece of my life back. But she hadn’t answered. She didn’t have her phone, and I was left to leave a message. Just a simple message of, “I miss you,” after the beep.

“Alexandria Lois Trikru, is that the way to greet your grandmother?”

Flush flows over my face so quickly as I correct my speech. “Hi, Nana.” My eyes on Clarke. Her shoulders seeming to relax for a second. I wonder if Clarke has grandparents. I don’t know why I have never considered it before. 

“Much better. I miss you too, my darling granddaughter.” The voice on the line seems lighter. Not as stressed as the last time we spoke. “Now tell me, what prompted you to finally contact me?” 

I freeze. I’m not even sure where to start. I start running through possibilities of starting with Clarke. Or should I tell her about Anya and I finally getting a divorce. I’m still weighing the options, when she apparently has become impatient, “I know we had our disagreement about what has happened during the last year, but you had me worried child.”

I feel my chest cave a little. I hate that she had to worry about me. That I wasn’t doing my best, and she suffered for it. Tears are threatening to release, and I tell her, “I’m sorry Nana. I didn’t want you to see me like that.” The first one falls, as I try to explain, “I love you too much…” and another, along with my voice catching, “I never wanted to disappoint you… and… I just kept hurting everyone. I just wanted-”

She cuts me off. I can see her hand raising in the air as though her small body was sitting before me. “I may frown upon your particular...coping methods, but you mistake concern for disappointment.”

That’s not true. We both know she was disappointed. Hell she said it. I wonder if she is starting to develop dementia or Alzheimer.  _ Could she honestly forget telling me I was a disappointment?  _ Unsure how to proceed, I decide that honesty has been the mode of the day, and it needs to stay that way, so I state, “You had very precise words when you learned of my infidelity and Anya’s petition for divorce.”

There’s a brief pause. She seems to be chewing on her words. I can see her as though she was seated next to me. Her teeth grinding against each other. Her mouth literally trying and retrying out words before they’re actually breathed. She confesses then, “I have not…” adding quickly, “but I’m not particularly proud of them. You were clearly hurting and I shouldn’t have shamed you. I didn’t know the full story, nor gave you the chance to explain. Not knowing the full circumstances... I regret not having handled you better. You always were a fragile child. I’m sorry, Alexa.”

My childhood name coming from her is almost too much for me. The tears already falling, I try to come up with something. But I need her to know that I’m not fragile anymore. “You have nothing to be forgiven for. I did all those things.” My eyes find Clarke, and she is taking the last few steps to join me on the couch. Her skin pressing against mine give me the courage to add, “And I’m finally learning from my mistakes and taking responsibilities for them.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she speaks again. “Does it have anything to do with a certain… lovely teacher you’ve been associated with lately?”

I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. Looking over at Clarke, I see a huge smile spread over her face, and I realize the speaker on the phone is up quite loud. I can’t match her smile though.   _ How can she know? Does this mean she disapprove completely?  _

> I really need to learn to stop jumping to conclusions. I mean I was literally trying to determine if I would be able to cut my grandmother, the only parental figure that always accepted me for who I am, out of my life if she wanted nothing to do with Clarke.

Every scenario begins running through me head. A wedding without Nana there. A wedding where I have no family at all this time, since she was the only person with a few teammates to sit on my side last time. I wonder what it would be like sending out Christmas cards or even baby announcements to only Clarke’s family. Every scene pulls me deeper into a vortex of pitch blackness. I don’t have time to spin further downward due to the soft giggle and her words, “I’m old, Alexa. I may even be a little senile. That, however, does not stop me from watching the news. Or seeing the tabloids at the supermarket. Or even reading the cutouts that your crazy mother sends me from the paper.”

_ My mother talks to her? _

I try to consider anytime my mother intentionally reached out to my father’s mother. I can’t find one instance. I want to ask about it, but I can’t find the words, and Nana is still on her own interrogation path. “So why do I have to learn through the media that my favorite grandchild-”

“I’m your only grandchild Nana!” I expel in playful release. Clarke’s hand coming up. Fingers dancing under my hair. Tugging softly at baby curls. 

Nana proclaims, pulling me back to the phone conversation, “Even better! So why do I have to learn from others that you started dating again after..”

“Fucking around?”

“Language, young lady! That is no way to speak to a woman from gentler days. I swear you’ve become a hoodlum in your aging days.” My eyes roll before I can stop the simple act of programed teenage rebellion. I am about to protest, but she adds, “But yes, now that you have finished practicing your… ugh, you know what I mean. This woman. The teacher that defended herself quite effectively, I just need to know is it as serious as it looked?”

My eyes fall to the ring on Clarke’s finger. The way the tips glide over the red fuzzy material. The clear stone sparkling in the dimming light, and I answer. “It is.”

I take another moment, before I speak in a complete sentence. “I’m very serious, and her name is Clarke. Clarke Griffin, and she has a little girl, named Jacky. And there is so much I want to tell you, but I think it’s a conversation better had over lunch.”

I reach my hand out to take Clarke’s. Holding it tightly, as I say, “I’d like for the three most important women in my life to meet properly.”   

She doesn’t miss a beat. It’s almost like she had been planning this for awhile. But she says, “Thanksgiving. It’s a week away, and it will give me enough time in the day to properly interrogate the woman and make her a new ally.”

> Oh, Thanksgiving. The day I learned that every woman in my life seemed to have their hands involved with getting me to Ark Academy on Clarke’s birthday. 

 


	50. Chapter 50

~Clarke~

Running the lint roller over the couch cushions, I notice the glass pumpkin that Lexa brought home is dusty. Leaving the roller on the cushion, I refocus my attention from the half hairless couch to the table ornament. I can’t stop rushing from room to room as I keep finding more shit that needs to be cleaned. Like the more I tidy the house the more i feel it needs to be cleaned, and at the same time, keep finding stuff that I started but didn’t finish. Like the couch. Fuck. 

I turn back to the couch, and search over the surface for the lint roller. It’s gone though. Like fucking elves came and stole it in the time it took me to walk the twelve steps to the two seater table. And now it’s gone. 

_ Where the fuck did it go? _

I move back through the doorway. _Cleaning would be easier if there was a better system. I should make cleaning buckets and like keep all of the stuff in it. Maybe even make a list and like laminate it with what needs to be done._ _Maybe I’ll do that once I find the lint roller._

Pulling the cushions off, I search in the cracks of where the foldaway bed is hidden. The roller isn’t there. It’s not under the table. I hit the cushion back into place, as I swear,  _ I literally just set it there. _

A habitual thump against dry wall clues me in. My eyes darting over to where a dark tail smacks against the wall. Her furry mug is down on the ground, as her ass shakes in the air. Between the canine’s jaws is the lint roller. The paper marred and drenched in drool. The handle now smashed clearly sharp to the touch. And Rexa fucking Griffin is smiling the whole time. Not realizing that I am quickly losing all sense of control. Not understanding that I have never really cleaned like this before. Even when she was forced into a tag team wrestling match to bath her, she turned it into a game of chase. Chase Rexa with the shampoo. Rexa chases Lexa with the hose. Lexa chases me with the towel as I try to hold Rexa still before she gets all muddy. Yeah, not cool dog. Not cool. 

There’s no winning this battle. My face falling forward onto the clean part of the couch and looking over the clean blue cushion to the darker, much hairy cushion. I try to hope that  _ maybe the grandmother is not a couch type of person. _ I’m really not even sure what is left to do. Thanksgiving is tomorrow and I’m not ready.

Trying to get ready is driving me crazy. And it’s definitely driving Lexa crazy. I thought initially that Lex would be excited to see me clean, however, she isn’t. Apparently watching me clean is like watching a bull in a china store. I have broken most of the items that I attempted to clean, but I also don’t seem to ever finish one task. 

The gravel crunches out front under tires. It’s too soon for her to be back from practice, and I look over at the pile of books that I started dusting before I realized that I needed to lint roll the couch. I catalogue all of the rags from where I started to clean a surface and walked away to clean another. Chest pounding, I know she is going to be annoyed with me. I just listen for the small creak from the door hinge as it protesting, or warning Lexa, as it is opened. 

I can’t look up at her when the bag hits the floor by the door. There’s the slightest sigh in her breath. Her sound of exasperation. I know I just made more work for her. That her need for order is going to be driving her crazy until the remnants of what I tried to do are completed. 

“I’m sorry,” is all I can manage to say. 

I wait for a response. Something to help me judge what my next step is, but she doesn’t say anything. The floor only creaks and shifts. The toes of her shoes coming up just near where I am seated. Then her body turning until she flops down on the couch. Even then, she still doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing, just Rexa’s nails clicking against the wood as she makes her way over to the couch and hops up on the area that I had just cleaned. Her body rolling over the space as she begs for Lexa’s attention. 

I watch the long fingered hand scratching over Rexa’s chest and belly. The dog huffing in joy. Finally I look up to see Lexa just watching me. Her eyes solemn and careful. I’m beginning to wonder if something happened at the park with Em and Tris. But she doesn’t look hurt. She would have tape at least if something was hurt. 

I jump a little when her words begin. Just a slight startle at the sudden sound. I think that makes it worse, as I process each sentence. “It sucks to think that you are so worried about my disappointment in you that when I get home you won’t even look at me. I never thought I would be that person.”

Her eyes leave me. Head falling to the back of the couch. I can’t see if she is looking up in prayer like she used to do before her games started in college, or if they are shut belittling herself. Pushing up from my kneeling position next to the couch, I get up and move enough to give Rexa’s head a shove until she gets the hint and moves away. 

Wanting to be as close as possible, I straddle the lap of my fiancé. Her body still radiating heat and waves of sweat mixed with peach deodorant all seem to absorb within my skin. Her hands move up to my hip bones and she seems to pull me in a little closer.

It’s enough for me to lean forward and place my head on her collar bone. Concentration locks on her pulse point. Watching it pump rhythmically, to which I begin to match three beats to one breath. 

Lexa’s thumbs push into my flesh, the strokes making it harder to ignore the growing heat between my thighs. I shift a little. Just enough to feel her hips hop upward just as her hands push down. There’s nothing there to impale me, but I won’t lie I fucking wish she was strapped and ready to fuck the crazy out of me. 

I don’t know how to tell her though. Not using words. So instead I use my hips.  

Up. 

Down. 

She seems to get what I want from her as I grind harder against her abs. Helping hands beginning to move with me.

Up. 

Down. 

Before I know it. I am being pushed and pulled against her. Her mouth attacking my throat so effectively that my pussy begins to pulse with need. 

Faster. 

Harder. 

She grips under my butt and pulls me inward. My tits pressing flush to her face. Her teeth coming out and biting the thin fabric keeping her from my nipple. Enough pressure that has me moaning in need for more. I want her to bite me harder. I want her to bite me and fuck me. 

I don't get the words out though. Her arms holding onto to me as she stands up swiftly, carrying me like I weigh nothing. My hands locking around her neck as I am carried to our destination. 

> There is no denying that Lexa understands how much her strength turns me on. Like she would purposefully find excuses to carry me so I would gawk at her sexy muscled arms.

The flex of her biceps is apparent as she drops me to our bed. Her fingers grazing over my flesh as they lock around the bottom of my shirt and pull it up and off. I want her just as naked. I want to see the contour of lean muscles with flawless tan. 

Her faces tells me that her whole body will have the sheen of sweat that makes the whole thing glisten. I can’t resist her, and she is not stripping fast enough. My hands giving away my neediness as I pull on the already cut up shirt. I pull a little too hard though, and the fabric tears audibly. The sound pausing her efforts as she turns to see the arms holes that had already been cut from the shirt are now down to the hem. Eyes shooting up to glare at me, she starts to say something but my head leans forward and captures the hardened pebble sticking out from her shirt between my lips. Biting gently until her words are clearly lost in the pleasure. 

The moment of pleasure gives me window of opportunity. Just a glimmer of chance that I may be able to get away with ruining one of her favorite shirts. With my mouth still working through the fabric around her nipple, I pull. It’s more of a yank and it quickly takes care of the job. The shirt splitting through the hem. 

Lexa’s arms flail a little but my hands are pulling the flapping t now to the side. Fingers finding her other nipple. Opposite palm holding just under where my lips are still attached. Again, I win the moment of pleasure that allows for me to transition from biting atop the shirt to getting it out of my way. Out of my way and before another fucking barricade. The inventors of bras is already a cruel person. That person has nothing on the sports bra though. Especially the tight shit Lexa wears.

Staring at the fabric with a scowl I contemplate the fastest way off, realizing that ripping her shirt was pointless if I have to work extremely hard to get the next layer off. Fingers slide under the elastic band and begin to tug upward. Each tug is matched with a subtle giggle that begins to make me frustrated. And not the ‘eat my pussy’ kinda frustrated. 

Her hands that had found my hair are now placed on her hips. Like she is offering me a challenge but not willing to help with the outcome.

No, frustrated that I am working so hard to not only get her naked but also to make the house perfect and she is just laughing at me. Yep, I’m getting pissed and I am going to tear this fucking bra apart. Leaving the base, I decide that I am going to tear it off. 

I try to rip it with both hands at the bottom edges. Pulling. Yanking. Well, yanking until the fabric slips between my fingers and snaps back against Lexa’s rib cage. 

She hops a little. Green eyes coming up to meet mine in hurt. I’m not having it though. pointing my finger to her chest and pressing a little with each word, I tell her, “I’m going to get this off of you… no matter…”

With a quirked brow, she snarks back, “no matter what?”

Narrowing my eyes, I shift on the bed. Making myself bigger than I really am, I prepare to wrestle her down. She doesn’t put up much of the a fight. Her body bouncing on the spring mattress. 

I stare down at the enemy. The goudy green and pink fabric too bright for its own fucking good. I pull under it again and let it snap. 

With an “Uph!” and a “You know that fucking hurts right?”

I give up on the idea that with my bare hands I can tear this off of her. That’s okay though. I’m a quick thinker after all. So quick that I run with an idiotic idea. Dropping so my mouth just hovers over the shades of her cleavage, I take the fabric between my teeth and pull. Grinding down as I try to bit through the spandex. 

Nope.

Definitely doesn’t work. 

Nope. 

Probably dumber than the last idea. 

Nope.

Didn’t think this through all the way because she’s laughing. I sit up, wiping at the saliva on my chin and pout. I start to get off of her because clearly I’ve made a fool of myself when I was going for hot clothes ripping sexy. 

I don’t get very far though. Lexa quickly sits up and grabs me around the waist, trapping me effectively on her arms. There’s no moving. 

“Hey baby, I’m sorry.”

Shoulders slumping, I whine, “You were laughing at me.”

Lexa quickly adapts her voice as though she is talking to Jacky in mid tantrum, which makes it a little worse, “I didn’t mean to laugh but you know how much I enjoy your eagerness. Though I’m glad your teeth didn’t work, you already ruined my shirt.” I can feel Lexa trying to ease me up, caressing my back soothingly, kissing me tenderly over my pulse point but with my inability to clean up my own house and my failure to sex up my girlfriend, I just can’t relax.

“I made a mess Lex!”

“You got me wet…”

“You were supposed to get wet, not that stupid sports bra!”

“Babe, it’s ok. Relax. Let’s just start over.”

Does that really ever work? Starting over. I mean she’s probably just going to laugh in the middle of me going down on her because she will remember my drool dripping down like a labrador all over her shirt. I’m skeptical to say the least. Her arms are moving me though. Her control of the situation taking hold as she moves around me, above me, and in between my legs. 

Lexa’s hot core pulsing into my pulsing clit. She is kissing my neck. Her body lifting only to pull my shirt up and over my head. With my top bare below her, a soft smile plays on her lips as she examines me. She doesn’t lean down though.

Instead, her body leans across me. One hand extends to the nightstand, while the other holds her up. Her tribal tattoo at eye level, I get another idea. I lick the tattoo on her right arm, tasting the salt and scent that is so Lexa. I let my tongue wander up to her neck as she moves back over me. Without stopping my trail though, I finish at her ear. Teeth biting playfully at the soft flesh of her lobe. I’m hungrily nibbling at her ear, ready to erase my sensual prowess fiasco. 

I cup the back of her head and tilt it to put on display the amazing expense of her neck. I’m dropping butterfly kisses, putting more and more pressure, preparing my mouth to take her by surprise with a bite when she’s the one surprising me with something new, something that’s been sitting in the nightstand since out engagement party. Something that we were both looking forward to play with.

I’m already excited. There’s no stopping the flood releasing between my legs as my nipple is stimulated with just a single click. My brain catches up as I hear and feel the vibration. I gasp and look up at Lexa’s smug face, “Fuck me now!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it has been a long ass time since we have updated. It's been a crazy roller coaster for both Low and I. Life has thrown us many many changes and we are trying to roll with the punches, as well as, celebrate the moments of success. Personally, I have changes jobs, my foster daughter returned home only for me to take in another little girl. The challenges of all of these changes have been overwhelming. Please know we have ben actively working on this chapter and the next for this entire time but just haven't been able to fully connect to complete them.   
> I hope this chapter finds you in good place, and know that we have not for a second forgot about you all or our promise to complete this story. Thank you so much for your patience and we look forward to your frustrated comments with the ending of this chapter.


	51. Author's Note

To all of our faithful readers, 

I am sorry for the long delay. This year has been quite a year of changes. I was looking at the date that I began this story last year. It was Thanksgiving. My life was so different than it is now. It's crazy to look at the things that I wrote in this piece and in others, fights or reflections of my own life. I have taken the time to reread where I began with this piece. A fucked up dream that mixed two of my favorite basketball players in with my favorite couple to share with my favorite fandom. My work only being me for a few chapters before Low agreed to assist me. Helped me map my crazy and add her own.

I want you all to know that I have not forgotten about our promise to complete this story. I know you all are, hopefully eagerly, awaiting the smut scene that is coming. It is coming within the week, I can say that. I have finally had a break in my life to get to work on it.

I feel the need to apologize for not updating, but not because I think we owe anyone anything. I know what it's like to have a consitency to your life, maybe it's the one thing that you look forward to each day. (I swear I'm not trying to be cocky and say you wait for us) I mean that I use to look forward to your comments on a regular basis. If I didn't get tons of comments, I would be sad. If someone pissed on my petunias, I would cry and lose my shit. I kind of forgot that I was writing for me and not for comments. 

I needed this break. I needed this time. Thank you for the messages of concern and well-wishing. I appreciate how many people that I don't know personally, caring if I am okay. It means so much to me... so thank you! I look forward to seeing your reactions soon. 

Happy Holidays  
-Luxi


	52. Truly, Madly, Deeply

  
~Lexa~

Finger hitting the pump once more to coat the end of the cock about to go within me, the other end already buried deep within the slick wet lips of Clarke’s pussy. Two squirts is always too much. One though isn’t enough. Searching around, I try to find a place to wipe off the excess lube. My hand still stroking the silicon as Clarke continues to buck her hips. My every stroke providing her with the minutest movement.   
Goosebumps rise across her pale skin. Soft moans make me wonder if I really needed lube. Her voice enacting the falling of a dam wall it seems. I’m trying to get in place, but Clarke will not stop moving and moaning to the point that I am not accomplishing really anything in my fluster. She feels the need to tell me, “Please fuck me,” as though I am not trying to do just that.  
“I’m trying, woman! Lemme get it in!” I point to the end meant for me, “My side is huge compared to yours.” I’m whining now, and there’s no place to wipe the fucking lube off besides the sheet. That’s not even a consideration because it will make them sticky, and that’s just gross.  
With twisted lips, I decide the salted caramel flavoring will be better tasted than wasted. I wipe the water based substance over Clarke’s heavy breast with a smug smile. Her back arches just enough that I can’t help but sit back and take in what is mine.   
The woman below me. Waiting for me to take her. Unlike anything I’ve ever dreamt would be possible. Especially not with Anya. My mind wanders from the blonde fiancée to the other blonde of my life. A moment of appreciation. If there is one thing that I’m grateful for from my relationship with Anya, it’s the overall sexual enlightenment she provided me. Before her, I had no idea how much pleasure I could get from another human being and how much I could give. The real revelation came once she introduced me to toys, various in shapes and sizes, and purposes. When I met Clarke, I didn’t know if she would be open to me taking the mantle Anya had with me; the teacher, the dominant. Usually there is minimal differentiation between our roles, but right now in this moment I know it is my chance to show her how much of a boss I can be. Afterall, she had never used a double sided dong, so I already have some leverage in that matter.  
This is my chance to show her that I can be powerful and not lose control. Not be Lexa fucking Trikru. Just a person that can protect her and care for her in her most vulnerable moments. My breath hitches as I wonder if our trust has gotten there. If I can truly bring some controlled bdsm dynamics into our bed without her freaking out. It’s one thing for Clarke to ask me to be rougher, it’s another to ask her to fully relinquish herself to me. The double sided translucent toy was my idea after Clarke complained she couldn’t fuck me while I was wearing the strap-on, but Clarke was the one who instigated the trip to the sex shop, the choice of color, length and width. She even was the one to push for a vibrating one. If I have to ease our relationship towards more defined status in bed, it will be on her terms. And it’s clearly on hers as I feel the dong slip through my slick fingers as her squirming intensifies.  
“Lexaaaa…”, Clarke moans and I huff at her impatience.  
“The point of the double dicks is to both enjoy being fucked at the same time.”  
“Get it in already!”  
I decide to play a little. Placing one leg over and one under hers, I line myself up but instead of putting the tip in, I take hers out, making her whine. I smirk as I take my side. Spreading over the end. The familiar and pleasurable stretch. A subtle moan and then another smirk as I hear her whine incomprehensible words. She wants it and I give it to her. With one jerk of my hips, I impale her with the other end already coated in her slick and lube. Bottoming out both ends as our pelvises collide.   
Her throaty moan ends in a long breathe of, “Fuuuucccckkkkkkk.” And I release a content sigh at the fullness I feel while my clit brushes hers. I take in the sight of her creamy skin in full display, her body fully leaned on the bed, hair splayed like a halo around her head, the sweat forming in the valley of her breasts where I can see marks forming from the bites I gave her, the rising and falling of her torso, short gasps from the infinitesimal rolling of my hips. She is trying to buck her hips, seeking more friction, seeking movement from the dick that connects us both. I lean back a bit, trapping the leg that is over mine with one hand, the other supporting my weight. The new position brings a change in angle as I feel the dick go deeper inside me. From Clarke’s squeak, it must have grazed her spot.  
“Let me set the pace”, I softly demand as I start a slow thrust.  
My hands find her wrists. Pinning them above her head, as I take a longer smoother stroke. Taking my time in pulling it out of her, only to move just as slow back within. We always hump like rabbits so I take it slow and steady.  
The pace clearly displeases Clarke. She rocks against me, not only trying to meet my steady thrusts but double each one on her end. She’s not really winning this battle, only making a sloppy attempt to cum unnessarily fast. I don’t want to scare her, but I want to control this moment.   
Something clicks though because I don’t want to control this moment, I want to be in this moment with her. Something different than other moments we have shared. Always seeking each other’s release as quickly or fun as possible. It’s not the way I want this though. This shouldn’t be about a fast orgasm.   
There’s no need to hurry. No need to reach a space of swift bliss. This is a moment to celebrate and live as one… but I don’t know how to tell Clarke that. To cease her search of release without ruining the momentum we have.   
Too lost in my own head, watching her closed eyes and the pulsing vein in her throat. Her mouth opening and closing in subtle moans as she is lost in her own world of pleasurable pursuit. I try to think of a way to win her over. Arguing or growling will not help achieve that.   
In my thought, I stop moving. My mind not in the moment finally catches her attention, and also freezes her hips. Both stopped, muscles only tensing only as reaction.   
Blue eyes finally open. Dilated pupils so dark that the crests surrounding each almost disappear. The striking richness is there though. Eyes that called to me in a way I never thought possible and steal my breath for a moment.   
This needs to be more.  
With a release of her wrists, I hold my body up with one hand and her face with the other. “Let’s not just cum.”  
Clarke’s head turns into my hand, but her eyes don’t fall away this time. This time when I push slowly, she doesn’t rush. Instead her chest empties and hot breath rushes over my chest. Pulling back links to her inhale. Twice more and our rhythm is slow but undeniable.   
Neither of us look away. We barely even blink. Our breathing matches so we are washed in shared hot. Clits meet as I guide her end in and out. Each brush of nerved points occasionally met with a gentle grind. Circling of hips allows for joint pleasure.   
“I love you,” I tell her. Seeing her so open and trusting. Plump pink lips parting to return my words. I don’t want her words though. I want to show her how much I love her.   
With a single finger, I press her lips quiet. “No words. Let me show you,” I plead softly. I take a chance with another plead, “I need your trust though.”  
The conversation I know should have been instigated before is now too late. Too late to ask to be the dom as I position myself in such a way that Clarke is at my mercy. My finger falling from her lip to trace down her throat. A subtle bob as she swallows. My hand stopping just below her neck and applies slight pressure, pinning her to the bed.  
Without adding any weight to the hand holding her down, I increase my speed. Face moving downward, breaking our eye contact. Lips just above her ear as I whisper hoarsely, “You may not cum without permission, Princess.”  
She doesn't answer quickly. The wait for confirmation of her planned obedience feels like eternity as I continue slow and staggered thrusts. Clarke’s soft gravelly voice does answer though. A lust filled acceptance to the challenge I present, “Yes, Commander.”  
My name of control given to me in a moment of respect excites me in a way I didn't know it could. My hips hop forward as I drive my dick within her dripping depths. The sudden snap causes Clarke’s breath to hitch and back to arch.   
I don't pull out, just grind clockwise. The motion erupting a gasping moan from my blonde’s parted lips.   
One more swivel just as slow before another tortuously gradual withdrawal from within the clenching walls of my fiancée. Her panting is swallowed with another steady strike. Sharp but sweet as my forehead rests against hers. Shared sweat spreads between our skin, lubricating each snap of my hips.   
As the pace increases so does the humidity of the room. Thick with both our desires, our connection, and our electricity. My skin is aflame and sparks erupt continuously, each gaining in magnitude with the godly noises coming from Clarke.  
Pushing up on my knees, I position myself to take her further with harsher thrusts. My ass meets my heels as my hands pull her tiny body into me. Pinning her in air on nothing but the phallus penetrating her pussy and my arms. I have less mobility but gravity aide in achieving a deeper reach. With a quick flick at the base of the dick, the dong comes to life. Not just a steady vibration from the bullet but the fancy beaded mechanism swirls within her suspending state.   
She grasps at my hair. My hand take hold of her plump ass. Her grip tightening in my curls as I pull her up and plunge her back down. I count carefully to myself to time each thrust precisely for extended pleasure that keeps her on edge.  
Clarke’s pussy spread against my upper pelvic bone as I drag her clit against me. Not allowing her to move from the pressure I’m providing.   
She’s going to have to beg me to cum. Stroke after stroke, I pummel her pussy with semi-violent strikes. One hand moving farther inward as I stroke the puckered rosebud of her ass. The excess lube I used has found its way into the crevice that allows me to press within her second opening. Just two knuckles in and I can feel the drilling dick spiraling within her.   
I alternate my probing penetrations to keep her completely filled.  
“Commander,” she cries out. The name filling me with pride at earns her quicker pops. My knees spread and I angled backwards, her body rolling against me as she begins to fuck herself on my dick and finger. I watch her tits bounce with each roll of her hips, transfixing my gaze. Milky skin flushed and patterned with pulsing blue veins. Her eyes so dark but the glow illuminating from her has me approaching my edge like I'm forced within a wormhole of complete ecstasy.   
The coiling within my abs is so tight as she falls against my clit. Shivers of sweaty heat mix with prickling cold air. Lightening streaks flashing around her frame as I command her to, “cum with me, Klark!”  
The violent jolt as my nervous system seems to explode into sharp angled strikes within her. My orgasm quakes with hers. Her head thrown back as she screams, “Fuuuckkkkk!” It's the only audible word my ears can grasp.   
The ripples of continued release keep my hips from stalling. Each contraction of muscle sends my dick deeper within her as Clarke’s ass clenches around my fingers.   
A rush a wetness flows over me, bringing me back to reality. Clarke’s body still spasming against me as she releases over me. Her mouth still wide open. Tears fall from a place I can't process.  
Emotionally exhausted, my chest heaves as I hold her close. Finger withdrawing from her ass slowly so I can turn off the vibration. She whines at my withdrawal, but her shuddering sigh tells me she is as spent as I am.  
“Wuvs ous,” she mumbles against my chest. My body supporting hers as her head falls against my chest. Her breath sends prickling chills across my skin as our shared heat combats the biting air that snakes through the room and coils sneakily around us.   
I stroke my fingers featherlike over her spine and ribs. Caressing her carefully, but my chest still rattles against her face. My breaths short and shallow, trying to keep up with the steady thrumming of my heart.   
Whispering carefully to not show my exhaustion, I remind her that she’s safe and, “I got you, princess.”  
She hums more inaudible words, her head clearly in a space that I'm only partially present. I hold her tighter, ceasing my strumming. Not sure what comes over me, I begin to whisper sing a song to my exhausted blonde.   
“I want to stand with you on a mountain,” I start. Barely audible and terribly off key, I can't seem to help the tears that still silently stream. My words cracking as I try to keep singing, “I'll love you more truly, madly, deeply.”  
Each word is a little more difficult as I realize without Clarke, I am empty. My life until now was just a shimmering facade of instant gratification.   
I lose my ability to speak, but Clarke has come back to me as she whispers back to, “I want to live like this forever, until the sky falls down on me.” Her voice more pure and beautiful than I could have ever imagined.   
With ragged breaths, we continue the verse out of order, “I’ll be strong will be faithful because I'm counting on a new beginning. A reason for living.”  
Each word more than the configuration of sounds that present a soothing melody. A reality of how much I've changed; how much Clarke’s changed from what we thought we were.   
Our new beginning within each other. Her stuttered words, “I'll be your dream. I'll be your wish. I'll be your fantasy.” Her promise to be what I had always been to her. A figment of her imagination cloaking my own reality of depression and self-sabotage. And I want to be better. Better than she’s made me in two months.   
I want to be her dream.  
I want to be her wish.  
I want to be her fantasy.  
And I put to rest Lexa “fucking” Trikru. Lay her in the grave she tried to bury me in. Ready for the first time to be the star that Clarke saw me to be when I couldn't see any value.


	53. Fucking Demon Bird

Flipping from one outfit to the next, the bed hold a leaning tower of clothes. Well three towers really. Too skanky and needs to be trashed pile is pleasingly small. I nod in pride at my developing sense at being less of a whore. The too small pile is actually not too bad. I can fit into pretty much everything in my closet, even clothes I’ve had since pre-Jacky. Apparently all that fuckery is helping my flabby ass get back into shape. The possibly appropriate pile is still not that big though. There are maybe twenty outfits. 

Twenty outfits of summer dresses to work cardigans. Thanksgiving has never been a big deal in my family. I shift haphazardously through the pile. The world hates me so it tumbles at the strain of a blue dress being tugged from the center. 

Everything on the floor, I begin to throw clothes on my bed to see if an outfit will make itself known. Maybe something can make my day easier. 

> So here’s the deal, the anxious part of me wished Lexa wouldn’t have fucked me so well the day before. I probably wouldn’t have been as tired and stressed out as I was. After our emotional fuck turned intensely transcending love making, I basically passed out from the whirlwind of feeling like a failure to becoming the subject of Lexa’s worshipping. Lexa had let me sleep while she cleaned up after my mess. And by cleaning, I mean she made the house squeaky clean. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it so spotless. And trust me, it is a feat in itself to render my crumbling humble abode a decent place. But even Lexa’s perfect dusting and amazing breakfast in bed couldn’t keep my nerves at bay. 

_ Today is Thanksgiving. _

I pause a moment, staring at the skinny jeans in my hand. But no; even that damn form fitting black skinny jean is judging me. Just like everyone will be fucking judging me today. Judging what I feel could fall under the label of tiny houses and be featured on HGTV. Then there’s my cooking. I mean I can’t put two items together for an outfit, and now Lexa sided me up to put together ingredients for items that people will be consuming. 

I’ve never cooked a Thanksgiving dinner, much less for so many people that I don’t even know how to arrange the furniture to have everybody seated. Thanksgiving is pre-ordered take-out with bad TV and the start of Christmas movie marathon. Sprawling on couches and make shift chairs with Raven and John. 

_ Fuck, I can’t have Lexa’s grandmother sit on a makeshift chair.  _ There’s no way I’ll be in her good graces if she leaves my house with an ass pain. I will be the fiancée that caused the literal pain in her butt… fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Nothing seems to be coming together. My fucking nipples and I wish the heater was working better. I return my gaze to the clothes on the floor. Flopping my ass against the wood and pulling at the articles once more. Completing a full circle of my emotional tornado I come back to the concerns of my attire. If I mess up how I dress, how can I be sure I won’t mess up the recipe. I cannot mess up the recipe and... poison people. 

Poisoning is bad. People will be sick and vomit. Abby will have to save everyone while adding another tally to her list of why I’ll never be good enough to be her daughter or Jacky’s mom. Lexa’s nana will dissuade Lexa from marrying me. And Lexa… oh god, she will clog the toilet again, or worse overflow it and we’ll have poisoned shit water running all over the house. And Jacky will have to stand on the chair to avoid the shit water. But the floors will rot due to the poison and the whole house will collapse onto itself. 

Okay, that’s probably a little too far.

_ Expect the poison part.  _ I hold my chest and try to breath.   _ Oh god Jacky, I can’t poison my own daughter!  _ Grabbing my phone, I google where to get a precooked meal as a  just in case. She’s old enough to call 911 if my food is that bad, I know that Abby taught her 911 before the first time she was allowed to leave the house with me alone.

“Thinking about setting the kitchen on fire again? Or is it Rexa running with the turkey this time?” 

I throw myself back with my arms coming up over my chest. Breaths heaving, I glare at her knowing, but don’t want to admit it. “Geez Lexa you scared the shit outta me.”

“Sorry, love,” She says with a sly smirk. Her finger twisting a loose curl. Every fucking detail in place, as my superstar looks ready for a photoshoot. Irritated at her ability to just know what to do, I turn back to the clothes, “I did ask… planned… Nana... naked-.”

“I...hmm...wait, what?” My head snaps up.  _ Naked Grandmother? _

Lexa laughs and she swaggers into the room. 

I hate it when she swaggers. Her cocky attitude all proud of herself. Nothing is more sexy and irritating at the same time. 

Lexa’s long fingers close around my shoulders. Gently rubbing at the tension in my muscles, until my eyes have rolled back into my head. “Well, not that I don’t like when you’re wearing nothing but your beautiful naked self but, you’ve staring at your clothes for the past 20 minutes. So… are you planning on meeting Nana naked?” 

My eyes snap open and I look up at Lexa. Her towering body leaned over me slightly. There’s no helping the pout or the whine, “I have nothing to wear.”

Lexa looks at me pointedly with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay yes obviously, I have clothes but I’ve never done this.”

“Never done what?” She’s so casual about it. How doesn’t she get this. 

I’m kind of annoyed as I let out an exasperated breath with the words, “Meet the family.”

Her grip tightens a little. Lips letting out just the smallest, “Oh.”

We both take a moment of silence as we look out over my entire wardrobe that decorates the bed. It take several deep huffs of air before I can steady my hand enough to hold it out to the clothes and tell her, “I don’t know what the protocol is. Do I have to wear a dress or a pantsuit? Blouse or button down? Hair done or just freely flowing? Do I have to wear lipstick and heels? I have no idea what to do and if I can’t figure something as simple as this, I’m fooling myself thinking I can host a dinner that I’m supposed to cook.” It’s a shorter smaller breath, and I add, “I can’t do this.” I am out of the air though. The rumblings of a storm that is threatening to come out in full force.

“Hey hey, calm down.” Her body is against my back. Satin shirt cold and soft draped against my skin. “Breathe.”  _ Easy for her to say. _ “We are doing this together.”

I try to elbow her, “You’re. Already. Dressed.”

She huffs and pulls me in tighter, “Wear something that will make you comfortable.” Then she adds, “You always look good to me.”

I shift to look at her. “I need to impress your grandmother, not you. Naked is the way to impress you I have found but I still think we need to get your eyes checked.”

A flush of red hits Lexa’s cheeks at the low blow I tried to land against myself, “And she will like you regardless of what you wear.”

Frustration builds as I snap at her and push myself back up and standing over the clothes. My eyes roll as I say, “Says the woman whom Nana stopped speaking with after her debatable life choices.”

Lexa leans back on her hands. She’s open, fully exposed to my attack, which makes me feel bad for being a dick. “First, I’m the first to admit that I made some mistakes-” She paused and a smile played on her lips before she snorted a choked laugh at her dishonesty, “okay, I’m the last to admit my mistakes always. But that leads to second.” Lexa holds up two fingers, because apparently I need a visual to go with her word like a moron. “Second, she was angry with the company I kept, not the clothes I had.”

My head tilts as I look at her. I’m company. Does she not get that. I bite back the aggression though, and tell her “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

Lexa catches her mistake as well. Standing up again, she positions herself over me. Intimidating but also safe. Safe and I need that, so I wrap my arms around her chest and rest my tangled head against her chest. She kisses my head between sentences as she tries to convince me that, “My grandmother will love you because you are special. To me. And to everyone who has the privilege to know you.”  _ Except Abby.  _ “Everything will be fine.”

I pull away as the flood begins, “We still have to go to the store and cook a whole dinner, from scratch.”

She’s biting her lip. Lexa never bites her lip unless she is afraid of my reaction. She stutters a little as she tells me, “I… I may have enlisted help.”

My eyes narrow, running through the list of who could help us. Can’t be Em or Tris, Lexa wouldn’t trust anything to come from them that is not contaminated with cum or something more disturbing. Raven would set it all on fire trying to sup up an oven to power better. Kane can’t cook and still refuses to acknowledge Lexa exists after the school issue. She better not have asked Anya. I can’t be runner up to the ex-wife in everything. “Who?” I ask giving up on my list. 

She clears her throat and moves to leave the room. Fleeing like a coward. The words tossed “Someone with real cooking skills.”

I growl and throw a shoe at her. Pegging her ass cheek. Her body hitting Jacky’s door and turning to see me. “Who, Lexa?”

Her hands are up in surrender, as she begins talking. “Look, I tried to seriously consider who could help us. I mean you can’t cook. I fucking love you Clarke Griffin but the last time you cooked I lost six pounds out my ass in liquid. Liquid out of my ass. We can’t do that to people. Especially Nana. She’s tiny and doesn’t have six pounds to lose. So I was going to ask Em…” Lexa heaves a gag a little, “But she always smells like Tris’ cunt and I didn’t want to eat Tris’ pussy juice for Thanksgiving. I just couldn’t. I mean Jacky will be there and that’s just not right. So Raven… well Raven offered to help and said she would deep fry the turkey. Like oil and fire in our backyard. And she build her own fryer and I just couldn’t help but think that we really don’t have enough fire extinguishers for this to be something that is a smart idea. So I asked Raven if Kane could help but apparently he still hasn’t gotten over the whole yelling at you in front of students…” Lex rubs her neck to try and ease over the discomfort, “So Raven suggested and I know you’re going to hate it but we had to do something because you can’t poison Jacky or Nana so if you could not be mad because she should be here any moment and I just want you to remember that I fucking love you and I didn’t do this to make you angry-”

“Just tell me who, Lexa.”

She takes a very large breath, “Your mother.”

I blink.

She didn’t…

She did say  _ her.  _

I try to process this. I just can’t. I need clarification. “You what…” But I know the what. That’s really not the question. So I ask the next question, “When?”

Lexa seems to have her answer ready. She comes back into the room apparently not seeing me as a threat any longer. “This morning, when I was making you breakfast.” Her hands find mine. “I said the truth yesterday when I told you I would do everything to be better. And that starts with admitting defeat over turkey and casserole. Besides, I want to know my future mother-in-law. I also have to win someone over and we didn’t start on the best note her and I. I want to do it for us, for you and for Jacky. Let us all bond by cooking together.”

“I...this is actually thoughtful. I don’t know what to say.” 

I keep running over in my head if Abby can actually stand to be around me for long periods of time. I am trying to figure out if she was excited by the invite or pained that she has to have me in her life. 

Lexa is smiling though. Clearly ready to tell me what I should say, “I’m awesome.” 

With a roll of my eyes so hard I feel like they may dislocate from my corneas, I retort, “No.”

Her chin drops a moment, as she repeats “No?”

I smile, nod, and fix the statement. “No, you’re perfect. I love you so much.”

She’s smiling again. Her lips pressing against mine as she mumbles out, “I love you too.” I move to deepen the kiss. Feeling the heat rise, I press against her, but Lexa pushes me away. She grabs a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, pushing them into my hand as Rexa attacks the door fully protect mode. Abby is here. Abby is here and Lexa wants me to wear sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

“What the fuck is this, Lex?” 

She smiles, “You’re a mess and there really is no point in getting dressed since we both know you’re going to covered in poultry carcass juice in a matter of minutes.”

I point at her, “But, you’re dressed. Why are you dressed?”

She moves quickly out of the room, as she calls back, “There’s really not enough room in the kitchen for all of us, Prisa.”

I flip her off. She can’t see me as I mimic her words, “I thought it would be good for us all to cook together. Yeah, I invited your mother, but you’re going to be in there and I’m so sorry.” 

There is movement in the kitchen, and I can hear Jacky and Rexa wrestling. Abby’s voice carries down the hall to where I am trying to pull on my pants but I am caught in the folded leg, because of course Lexa gives me her giant pants. “Coming!” I call. 

I stumble, still trying to pull the drawstring and tie it to fit. The material so far bunched it looks like I’m 12 again trying to wear my dad’s pants. Jacky is up and off the floor when she sees me. Her body tucked alongside mine as I make my way to the kitchen door. When I get there, Abby stalls her disapproving look around the kitchen. Her hands that were working on pulling unopened containers of spices, boxes of stuff, and cans of maybe green beans, softly hover over the plastic bags. Eyes looking me over to the point that I wish I had just gotten dressed. 

She doesn’t say hello. No, just states a please observation for me. A reaffirmation that I must be taking better care of myself, “You’ve lost weight.”

I smile slightly, and utter a slight, “Thank you.”

Abby drops her hands and looks around the kitchen. When she doesn’t find what she’s looking for, I too start looking around though she hasn’t asked me for anything yet. What is it that is expecting to find. 

“Where’s the bird?”

I huff. A slight groan at the reminder of the bird. The bird. The bird that’s been judging me since we bought it from the store, seeing right through me, mocking me for my obvious lack of culinary discipline. Sniggering at me every time I had to open the fridge and take something out. Those restrained flappy ridiculously small wings pointing at me despite their confine. How many times did I shut the door stronger than necessary muttering a frustrated ‘shut up’.

With two steps I’m in front of the refrigerator and reluctantly pull it open. The bird of doom comes in sight. And I just stare at it. I can’t tear my eyes away from it, having a quiet conversation with my nemesis.  _ So the end has come for you, Birdie. Look who’s mocking who now. Ah! Jokes on you, raw meat _ ! I reach inside the fridge and grab its sides strongly, pulling till it balances at the edge of the compartiment. I rearrange my grip better and pull it out completely, almost losing my footing under the unsuspecting heavy weight.  _ Lexa had made it look so easy. _ And I groan because of course that fucking bird will try to embarrass me in front of my mother.

“Fuck you too,” I mutter under my breath while I carry it to...Where do I put it?

“Talking to the turkey again I see.” Lexa is trying not to laugh while leaning, arms crossed, in the kitchen’s doorway and I groan again. She won’t let me live it down. Fortunately, she is saved from my snarky retort by my smart daughter who left the couch to stand beside her.

“You’re silly, Lexa. Birds don’t talk.” Her little hands are on her hips looking so much like my mom it's kinda scary. 

I turn back to the turkey as I tell her, “You’re right, baby.”

I'm still staring at the giant bird, trying to swallow the reality that I am going to cook the mass of flesh. 

“I wanna help.” 

I consider this for a second. Not really sure if Jacky can help. I mean what can a five-year-old actually do. I can't think of anything and I cast a glance at my mom quietly unpacking bags. She had always found something for me to help with when I was a kid. I failed clearly but still always made me a part of it. 

She's obviously waiting on me, so I tell Jacky, “Why don’t you go wash your hands in the bathroom.”

I hear the pitter patter of Jacky’s feet running as she rushes across the living room. I have only bought a few moments and I scrunch my nose as I look back at the turkey and pull it into my arms. I'm not even sure what to do with it and huff as I readjust it in my arms. Lexa outright giggles at my struggles. Honest to God giggles.

It should make me laugh but I can't because the satanic bird is trying to escape so I snap at her, “Stop laughing.” I add under my breath, “That thing already is.”

“That thing is a bird. A bold dead bird.” Lexa says taking the netted bag handle and taking the 24 pound bird from my hands like it's nothing.  _ Asshole. _

I'm glaring at it as I point to it. “Well its spirit must still be there cause I swear it’s been planning its revenge on me all week.” Lexa laughs for real this time, her hand holding her stomach and tears welling in her eyes. Stupid bird. And stupid Lexa. 

I turn around at the sound of my mother clearing her throat to cut us off. I had forgotten she was there. I turn so fast that I knock into Lexa. Her body already off balance from laughing. I kinda wish she fell and smoothed that asshole bird. That would serve it right but I can't serve poultry that touches the ground. I’ll let Rexa play with her bones though. Payback is a bitch, literally.

“When you’re done staring that turkey down, can you put it in the sink and clean it.” I had been caught staring at the bird again. 

“You have to give a bath to that thing!” Lexa laughs some more as I drag my feet to the sink where she has heaved it into. I turn my head and smirk at her when my mother points at Lexa.

“And Lexa, go get changed.”

Lexa’s laughing ceases and she swallows thickly. “Me… change…”

Mom’s hands on her hips scream authority for such a tiny woman. “You asked me to come help so you better lend a hand as well.”

Lexa’s eyes shift to me before she grumbles on her way out. I shake my head and start on the task, ridding the beast of its plastic wrapping and opening the tap to the cold water. I feel absolutely ridiculous washing the bird and its bumpy flesh looks too much like a baby. It sends chills down my spine but I keep rubbing it. The sliminess makes me want to heave.

After what feels like an eternity, Mom tells me, “I think it’s cleaned enough, Clarke. Just bring it to the table. I will prep it.”

Four tries to get the bird up and I have to stick my fingers in the gaping ass just to pull it free. Struggling to get it on the foil that Mom has laid out for it. She has mooshy butter in her hands, and starts rubbing it onto the bird like she’s giving the fucker a massage. Her head nods to the boxes on the counter.  

“You get the stuffing ready.”

Jacky is back though, standing next to the dead animal, asking, “And me gramma, what do I do?”

Mom looks around. She must not find what she’s looking for because she asks, “Where are the potatoes?”

I rush over with my turkey hands and pull a bag of brown almost mandrake looking things and hold it up. “Potato peeler?” I retrieve it from the third drawer I open. I must look like an idiot that doesn’t know where shit is in my own house.

Mom nods and tells Jacky to peel the potatoes into the trash can. Jacky is excited and she starts to pull off her red cardigan. Her little blouse with turkeys on it matches her striped stretchy pants. It makes me smile just seeing her all dressed for the holiday, remembering how mom always made sure I had a holiday outfit that wasn’t impractical. 

I pull myself back from my daydream and grab the box of Stove-top. I may be a shitty cook, but I can make anything from a box. Reading over the directions, I gather a pot and start to boil the water and more butter than it asks for, everything could use more butter. I know this task is just as simple as Jack-Jack’s, and I look over to see Abby still massaging the bird but it’s covered in herbs now. I’m about to ask my mother what to do next when I realize that Lexa still hasn’t come back.

I know she couldn’t have gotten lost, but I tell mom, “I’ll go check on Lexa real quick.”

She hums in response, lost in her task. I’m almost out the door when I hear her request. “Would you mind bringing me and Jacky something to wear to protect our clothes?”

Looking back, I see potato peels flying around the trash can. I’m not sure what motion the kid is using but there is a peel stuck to her forehead. I laugh and tell her, “I’ll get Jacky a long shirt.” Quickly though, I open the pantry and take out the apron that has always hung there. A wordless exchange of looks between my mom and I as I place the loop over her head and cross the laces around her back to tie them in the middle of her front. Mom’s eyes are just as fixed on Dad’s ‘kiss the cook’ apron. There’s nothing to say, but a solemn memory of who was the real cook of our once family.

Making my way down the hall, I stop at the picture hanging just outside my door. Putting my finger to the glass where he stood holding his wife in one arm and the little blonde girl that once upon a time - before grief, alcohol, and sex turned me into a person he would despise - was going to be someone to make him proud. 

Today may have been a mistake. I’m realizing I may not be able to handle the whole family thing. And, as I turn the corner into the bedroom, I wonder if Lex is feeling the same. She’s sitting on the couch staring at the dresser. 

Lexa has changed. Her t-shirt is ratty and the briefs hug her ass. She’s so beautiful, but clearly irritated about something. I try to be gentle as I crawl over the bed and run the tips of my fingers over her back.

“Why’r you hiding?”

She grunts before answering. “I’m not hiding but you’re wearing my sweats and I don’t want to get dirty.” Her hands run over each other, and I wonder if she is really melting down about the potential of getting dirty or if there is something else there. 

Running my fingers down her back, I push under the band of her briefs. Rubbing the crest of her ass just slightly, I wiggle my eyebrows at her, “You don’t want to get that kind of dirty or dirty in general?”

I can’t focus on the karate moves Lexa pulls but, within a moment, I’m on my back and she’s hovering over me. A smile on her face as she leans in to kiss me. Her words broken between kisses, “Let’s... just stay here... and... make out.”

I reciprocate some of the kiss, but then I’m pushing her off. “No and no.”

Lexa jumps off me. Her eyes clearly taking me not seriously. Her hands up. I sigh, wishing that we could finally find a balance in communication. Shaking my head, I tell her, “My mother and my daughter are here, and people will expect food later.” I pause before I add, “You don’t want to see a denied Raven.”

Her face falls a little as she twists the hem of her shirt. A childish whine breaking from her lips, “Do I really have to?”

With a roll of my eyes, I answer. “Yes. I’m not facing my mother alone. I’m not going back there just to make a further fool of myself alone!”

Lexa drops her chin and looks at me with large puppy dog eyes. “She scares me,” she half whispers. “She put her hands on her hips and she was all serious and she is truly scarier than anyone I have ever met.”

I try to wrap my head around this. But I realize that Lexa may be intimidated but she is also trying to get out of cooking. “Lex?”

Lexa looks at me. Her eyes a little hopeful. A subtle smirk of success playing at the edge of her lips that falls as I tell her, “Put on her big girl panties. Hell put on the dick if it will make you find your damn courage, and help me get ready for this damn dinner that  _ you _ ,” and I push my finger into her chest, “signed us up for.”

The innocence fades into a reluctant glare, but she is up and pulling on the drawstring of my sweat pants. I’m smacking at her hands but she is shaking her head. “No, if I’m going out there with my giant dick, I need my sweat pant to cover the huge fake boner you give me.” 

_ She wouldn’t.  _ But the look on her face says she is putting on a penis and going out to help my mom cook dinner for our families. Lexa is still tugging on my pants and she pulls them free, leaving me bare from the waist down. 

I watch, waiting to see if the purple dick is going to be added to her briefs, but to my very sincere relief she just starts pulling on the pants. Her body leaning over me, as I watch her try to get her second foot into the leg. She doesn’t just pull them on though. Her devilish grin is still making me uneasy about what she has planned. But her head and tongue are too fast for me to react. Taking a full swipe from my entrance up to my clit. 

Just one.

Just enough to fuck with me, and have slick rushing from me.

Just a tease that is going to leave me a throbbing mess for the rest of the day.  _ Why did I think it was a good idea to go commando today of all days? _

“Lek-sa,” I beg now.

But she’s up like nothing happened. Standing tall and pulling the drawstring of her pants to secure them just under the band of her briefs. I whine but it’s no use. She’s won and I am nothing more than a begging puddle of wanton need on the bed. 

Until Jack is screaming and bursting through the door. Her little body running to me, as I try desperately to roll my naked ass off the bed. Lexa seems to catch Jacky though, as I tumble with a thump to the hardwood floor. Hiding behind the bed as my hands search for a pair of leggings.

“Gramma!” and then “broken neck!” 

I pop up.  _ Abby broke her neck? _

Unable to get a coherent understanding of what had happened, I run. I run because I already lost my dad and even though she was a bitch, she was my mom. I run to make sure she isn’t hurt.  

Which she wasn’t. 

She hadn’t hurt herself at all. She had torn the neck off the demon bird, and the fucker had gotten revenge on me. A terrible revenge that left me with a glistening pussy on display for my mom to see, standing in the middle of my kitchen holding the long dismembered neck of the bird. Her face red as she calls after Jacky, but too late. 

Far too late to save me from the embarrassment. The spirit of the bird coming back to humiliate me so completely. A tragic revenge that left me without pants standing in front of not only my mother, but baring my ass to Raven and a very old woman entering the front door. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, just a heads up. I have new usernames. If you use to subscribe to just me you will need to update your subscription.


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